


Throne of Night

by RavensBound



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Original Character(s), Smut, The Children of The Characters, Wyrdgates, second-generation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensBound/pseuds/RavensBound
Summary: Years after the horrific details of both Aelin Galathynius and Feyre Archeron's tails, things are starting to finally settle down. But what were to happen if their children met? Orion Night has one task in mind. Get the crown. Only, his powers seem to be too great. Though a blessing, he has always had trouble keeping them in check for the last twenty-three years of his life. One thing he was never sure of before losing complete control;how the hell he could managed to open a portal to another universe.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Asterin Blackbeak Havilliard/Marion Lochan, Celaena Westfall/Sam Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Evalin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius/Rion, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard, Nesta Archeron & Cassian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Second-Gen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So let's get credits out of the way, shall we? I just want to say that some characters I will create, but most I got from @ink.fae on instagram! I asked her for permission to use her OC's so all is well! Please go check out her art it is amazing and might help you visualize some new characters from this story! (The storyline is mine.) I also have a tiktok account where I talk about other books and even rate them! It's @readerscorner. Without further notice, read on!

Evalin had never really been a fan of court-like events. No, that was more Sam's thing. At the balls and coronations she kind of just hid in the shadows right along with her father, who like her, disliked the royal aspects of their life. It was kind of funny because her mother bathed in it. She often flaunted Sam and accepted all compliments with praise of herself. Evalin often caught her father watching her with a sort of fondness, whilst they hid in the shadows. 

Now, she had her hands resting crossed under her head, enjoying the warmth of the Terrasen summer, but also the shade of a weeping willow. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't trying to fall asleep but it was so comfortable. This was her favorite spot outside the castle walls. 

She was lucky to have slipped away from her mother's grasps. She was currently having tea with one of the lord's wives' and though even Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius hates some of the snobs of Terrasen, she always told both Evalin and Sam that it was only polite to indulge them every once and a while. Rowan, Evalin's father snorted every time she said that and muttered some sarcastic comment about how, yes, of course, Aelin was the epitome of politeness. That earned him a glare each time. 

Aelin had seemed intent on making Evalin stay for tea, but Evalin was good at making excuses. 

Now, she sighed her comfort, enjoying the peace. It was only when a sudden shiver and coldness making her eyes open, that her content look turned into a sour glare. 

"I thought you were drinking tea and eating cake," Sam said, a small smirk forming with his hands folded across his back. 

Evalin sat up with a groan. "Shut up, Sam," she muttered. He laughed heartily, a trait he inherited from their father. Though, Rowan Whitethorn didn't laugh often. 

Sam was wearing what he usually wore when he trained; knee-high boots, a tunic with the sleeves cut off, and two swords strapped to his trousers on either side. Evalin looked him over warily. 

"I just got done training with Vaughn," Sam said, noticing her look. "Anyway, did you hear the news?" Her brother was looking at the calluses on his hand as if he didn't have a care in the world. Evalin rolled her eyes. 

"What news?" 

"I will be going to Adarlan with Uncle Aedion and Rhoe," Sam said simply, before pausing. "In two days' time." 

Evalin jumped to her feet with a jolt. "What? I must go with you!" 

"Please, Evalin, it is a journey for us men." 

"That is shit and if mother heard you say something like that albeit she would castrate you!" Evalin growled. 

Sam winced slightly, more in disgust than anything. "You do have the mouth of a sailor, Lin." 

"I'm going with you to Adarlan whether you like it or not," Evalin said, her teeth sharpening as she snapped at him. He only rolled his eyes in annoyance as she stalked away from him. 

Evalin shoved the doors open as she walked into the conference room, ignoring the slam of the large wooden doors hitting the walls. All the heads shot up to her as she walked across the floor, a scowl on her face. Most of their faces paled. All except Aedion Ashryver's. 

"You're going to Adarlan without me?" she demanded. 

Aedion sighed and nodded to all the other men, who had previously been in a semicircle around the table in the center of the room. They all cleared the area swiftly. Aedion was wearing what he always wore when on castle grounds. A pine green tunic with the Terrasen insignia across the chest, the Sword of Orynth strung by his waist. 

"Evalin, it's nice to see you too," Aedion said absentmindedly. "I see Sam told you-"

"Why?" she asked, cutting him off. "Why are you going on such short notice?" 

"I have been planning this entourage for a while. I only recently decided to bring Sam with me," Aedion said calmly, keeping his eyes on the spread of papers before him. "Along with Rhoe-"

"Why?" Evalin asked again. 

Her uncle lifted his head, finally looking at her. Her anger almost left her with the cold, commanding stare he gave her. Almost. But she stood her ground. Aedion sighed as if he expected this from her. 

"I cannot tell who you are more like," he said slowly. "Your mother, or your father." 

Of course, she was more like her father. Everyone knew that. She ignored this comment, putting her hands on her hips. He shook his head. 

"It is nothing to get yourself worked up about, Lin. We are just going to discuss funds, trading routes-you would not-"

"I want to come," she said calmly. 

"Did you ask your mother?" Aedion asked, gathering the papers into a stack. 

"No but-"

"Did you ask your father?" 

"Uncle-"

"Until then, I suggest you don't make any requests like that again," Aedion said, his voice calm and yet laced with cold command. 

"I do not need their permission," Evalin said. "I am no child." 

Aedion gave her a look before placing both his hands on the table. "I know you aren't," he finally said, his face softening. "You can come. But at least _tell_ one of them if you will not ask. I'm serious, Evalin." 

Evalin couldn't help the smirk that slowly crawled its way across her lips. Her uncle shook his head before picking up the papers and nodding to her, brushing past her and through the grand wooden doors. 

A strand of silver hair fell in front of her face, and she looked at it. In the sunlight streaming through one of the windows, the strand of hair almost seemed to sparkle. Her father's hair. She twisted the strand up in her fingers, before tucking it behind her ear, and turning on her heel. 

"Orion," a saccharine voice whispered in his ear. He stirred but remained mostly asleep. "Orion," sung that voice even louder. 

"Go away," he groaned, turning away and burying his face in his pillow. 

"Orion!" she suddenly yelled. 

Orion jolted awake, lifting his head to see her lying in his bed, wearing Illyrian leathers, and watching him with one elbow propped on the cushioning and her hand supporting her head. 

"Time to train!" she said excitedly. 

"Ailith, go away!" he groaned, turning away from her. 

"Did you forget what day it is? Get up or I _will_ make you," she commanded, her voice getting less soft. He felt the mattress shift and her footsteps against the wooden floorboards. "Don't make me get my father." 

"Fine!" Orion said, immediately getting up. 

Ailith chuckled, leaning against the window sill in the far corner. Orion only glared at her, his eyes pausing on the necklace she wore. A glowing crystal hung by her chest, emanating a faint yellow-orange glow. She caught his stare and by instinct, wrapped her hand around the crystal. 

"Where did you get that?" Orion asked. 

"It was a gift," Ailith said coldly, looking away from him. He knew he wasn't going to get any more information than that. "Hurry up and get dressed. I am taking my own time to wake your ass up and I have to get back to the camps soon." She brushed her black shoulder-length hair from her shoulder and headed towards the door. She paused when she reached the threshold. "And Rion?" she asked. He looked up at her. The intensity of her overly bright blue eyes bore into his violet-blue ones. Her eyes she inherited from her mother. "Don't be late for dinner tonight. I'm not taking the blame for you again." With that, she left, slamming the door shut behind her. 

Orion let out a sigh and ran his hands through his overgrown hair, closing his eyes. 

"He's alive!" Cassian boomed, spreading his arms wide when Orion dropped down onto the roof of the House of Wind. 

Orion flared his wings before folding them tightly and feeling the weight on his back disappear along with his wings. Ailith groaned, her own folded wings twitching on her back. She often snapped at him when he did that, saying not everyone can do the same thing. Orion smiled in her direction, earning a cold look. 

"The next time you are late, I will throw you off this roof myself. Got it?" Cassian said, pulling his attention away. All the softness was gone. It was probably because this wasn't the first time Orion was late for training, and Cassian was getting over it. 

"Where were you?" a deeper, colder voice asked from behind him. 

Orion turned to see his father, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the inside of the house. He fixed Orion with a cold stare, waiting for one of his excuses. He didn't have to make one. 

"Why, my dearest cousin was sleeping, of course," Ailith answered for him, lifting her blade and inspecting it, her hair shifting against the top of her shoulders as she moved her head. 

Orion would have glared at her if it weren't for his father watching him. He looked back to where he stood, a perfect amount of nonchalance and coldness. He wasn't wearing Illyrian leathers, so he wouldn't be training with them. He was wearing his usual attire, a black tunic lined with silver, and trousers made to fit him. Rhysand slowly slid his hands into his pockets and stood up straight. 

"I will see you tonight," he said slowly, walking over and resting a hand on Orion's shoulder before he simply walked off the roof. Somehow, that hurt even more than his usual lecturing. 

He looked to Cassian, who looked like he was trying too hard to busy himself. He caught Orion looking, and shrugged. 

"He was in a hurry," he said simply. 

"Let's just get this over with," Rion said, picking up his sword and not hesitating before he winnowed in front of Cassian. 

Cassian immediately blocked his blade with his own, twisting and jabbing with the sword in his other hand. Orion winnowed again and once behind Cassian he made a move with his sword. In turn, Cassian flared his wings, throwing Orion off-balance and turning, kicking him square in the chest. 

Orion fell back, landing on his bottom and sending gravel flying everywhere. He was vaguely aware of Ailith laughing in the background. Orion groaned and looked to see she had dropped her sword and was holding her stomach, her tan face a bright red. Cassian was grinning down at him, triumphant. 

"Well," he said slowly. "That was something." 

Orion glared at him beneath lowered brows, strands of his black hair having fallen in front of his face. When Cassian held out his hand, he took it and let him haul him to his feet. 

"By the way," Cassian started. "Your mother wants to see you in the studio. When we're done here. Got it?" Orion nodded. "Good. Now I want to see both your forms." 

Orion opened the door, moving to the side when two young children rushed past him, out into the street. He let the door shut behind him and walked over to where he knew his mother would be. She had her hair braided, lying on one shoulder, and wore an apron that had splotches of paint in various colors all over. She was smiling, helping an old woman sitting in front of a canvas. Orion leaned against the wall, watching with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Eventually she noticed him, standing up straight and tucking a strand of hair behind her delicately pointed ear as she walked over to him. He had long since changed out of his Illyrian leathers. Instead, he wore a carefully fitted tunic lined in midnight blue colors, the collar stopping halfway up his neck. It was similar attire to his father's. 

Feyre Archeron smiled up at his son, folding her hands together in front of her. He was taller than her now, and though she was now forty-five, she didn't look a day over twenty-four. A year older than he was. 

"Are _you_ going to lecture me?" he asked, skeptical. 

"Oh, Rion, please. You are not a boy any longer. But that does not mean you get to start slacking. You have your duties as a prince. And lately, you have not been trying your best," Feyre said softly. "And no. I will not lecture you. Neither will your father, and you know that." 

"I missed _one-_ "

"More than one. Many. You've been distant, and..." Feyre bit her lip, pausing for a second. "Your activities are growing to be-" 

"My _activities_?" Orion asked incredulously, though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

He lived in the same estate as his parents. It was just the three of them now. Azriel had lived with them, but the older Orion got, the more he thought it best to move out. He had planned to live there along with Amren, Elain, and Cassian. But Cassian got married. Orion was born. And Amren moved away to the Summer Court. Elain... well Elain got better. She got her apartment, away from Azriel. Eventually, Azriel moved out too. Not too long after Orion was born, did Nesta Archeron become with child. With Ailith. 

Feyre pursed her lips as if realizing she was going about it all wrong. "Are you troubled because of... Seph?" she asked. 

Orion's features darkened. "No." One word. It was tart and snipped. 

Seph, the princess of the Spring Court, and Tamlin's daughter. High Lord of the Spring Court. He had courted her for seven months. And fallen in love with her. But then she realized they weren't mates. And she cared a whole lot more than he did. But it was _fine_. Because he promised her they could still be friends. That was three months ago, and they have barely spoken a word to each other. 

He knew Seph had a weird thing about finding her mate, something about never knowing her mom. Nobody knew who the high lord had courted, resulting in Seph. Not even Feyre. What made everything all the more bizarre, was that his mother had somewhat of a relationship with Seph. He was aware of the rift she had with Tamlin before he was born, and before the war. Cassian told him most of it. But now things were fine, and Feyre saw Seph a lot. 

"Are you sure? Because I-"

"I don't want to talk about Seph. Did you need something?" he asked. 

Feyre recoiled slightly, obviously hurt by his closed-off attitude. He softened the slightest bit. "Rion... you know I just want what's best for you," she said softly. 

He smiled at her, feeling a slight shift. "I know. I'm fine, I promise. I will do better." 

"That's all I want to hear. Will you at least help me clean up? There is some clay in the back. Or..." She turned from him, and he followed her across the room with his hands in his pockets. His eyes brightened when he saw her pick up a chisel. "We just got a new order of some marble."

Orion already felt better than he had in a few weeks. She could see it on his face because she pressed the chisel into his callused palm and jerked her head to the back door, turning away from him without another word. 

Rion wasn't the best painter. But he did inherit some of his mother's artistic abilities. He was a sculptor. He worked best with his hands. 

Evalin loved both her parents. She did. But something she would never admit out loud was that her father understood her better. It wasn't a bad thing. She imagined her mother could understand Sam a bit better because, well, they were scarily similar in a lot of ways, and she wasn't talking about their golden blonde hair. 

The sun was getting ready to go down the hills when she stepped into the royal stables. Evalin froze when she heard the deep hum of her father's voice. 

"He's a fine fighter. But he has trouble focusing. He knows it, I've made sure of that." He paused for a moment and Evalin thought he wouldn't continue when. "What have I told you about eavesdropping?" 

Evalin rolled her eyes and stepped out from behind the beam she was hiding behind, only to see Vaughn smirking, leaning against another beam, and then Rowan Whitethorn, a knife and flint in his hands. 

"Sorry," she said, though her tone made it obvious she wasn't being genuine. Rowan seemed to be fighting a smile now. "You knew I was here the second I got here." 

"I heard you coming," he corrected. Irritation grew in her. 

"Were you trying to flatter me by insulting Sam's skills, then?" 

"I was doing no such thing, and perhaps you would not have to eavesdrop if you bothered to show up to training." 

"As if I need it, and even if I did... I had-tea," she spat out the last word. 

Her father did not bother to hide his smile now. "Hm, tea. If my sources are correct you did not show up to that either." She ignored him. "Evalin, even the finest warriors must show up to their training." 

Evalin crossed her arms over her chest. Vaughn shook his head and looked away. She gingerly folded her hands behind her tailbone and walked between them, casually stopping by her personal horse's stable. She ran a hand through Constance's mane. "So... Sam's going to Adarlan." 

She could practically see her father shoot Vaughn an irritated, knowing look, although she was not looking at them. 

"Evalin-"

"I'm going too. My decision has already been made up," she said before he could lecture her. Then she turned around. 

"Did you ask your mother?" 

"Uncle Aedion has made it abundantly clear I do not need permission." 

"Did he make that clear, or did you?" Rowan asked, slight amusement laced within his words. 

Evalin felt her temper rising. "Both of us!" 

"May I ask what is waiting for you in Adarlan?" 

"Let's see... my best friend, my uncles, the expectations of me wearing dresses and drinking tea gone," Evalin said, counting off her fingers. 

"Nobody expects you-"

"Society expects me," Evalin argued. "You know what- you're right. It's not that. I can't stay in one place for too long and you and _her highness_ made it abundantly clear I cannot travel to Wendlyn-"

"We have far too many enemies in Wendlyn. Even after all these years," Rowan said curtly. "Some that even the Ashryver's may not be able to protect you from." 

"I can take care of myself," Evalin snapped, before realizing it was her father she was talking to and checking her tone. "This whole overprotective act got old the moment I came of age." 

" _you_ were not alive to see the horrors we did," Vaughn spat from behind her. She almost forgot he was there. Vaughn had a thick accent that he never told her where he got from. Sometimes it took her a moment to register his words. 

Rowan sighed. "You are free to do as you wish. I am simply _suggesting_ you listen to your only father. And since it has been well over a year since you have been to Adarlan... you can go. And no, you don't need permission but I appreciate you telling me," he said simply. 

Evalin blinked. She expected more of a fight than that. But she was twenty-three. Not a teenager. It was true she hadn't been in over a year. King Dorian, someone she preferred to call Uncle Dorian, always came to Terrasen when they saw each other. Her parents had gone to Adarlan twice over the year but didn't take her or Sam. In all honesty, Sam seemed to be more upset each time. Mostly because... well, because of Chaol Westfall's daughter, Celaena. Evalin would bet everything that Sam couldn't wait to get to Adarlan fast enough solely because of Celaena Westfall, the healer's daughter. 

"But do not forget your duties as Princess of Terrasen," he added quickly. There it was. 

That was her leash, keeping her from exploring the world. Princess of Terrasen. Her title. Her _duties_. All her parents ever told her was that she was free to do as she wishes. But then there was her title. So she wasn't _free_. She couldn't say she loathed being royalty, though. There were times she dreamed of being queen. Ruling all of Terrasen for herself. Being _in control_. There was a slight flaw to that future. Sam was her twin brother. There wasn't an heir to the throne. Not yet. Her parents were rather hesitant about that. 

The last thing they wanted was for their children to tear each other apart over the crown. Not that Evalin thought they would. She and Sam were different in every single way, but he was her best friend and she loved him. But... she did want the crown. Badly. 

That was a dilemma from a long time from the present, though. 

"I won't," Evalin said hastily. When he looked over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow, she had to fight the irritant feeling that came. "I won't," she repeated. He only nodded. 

"I will talk to your mother, then. But Evalin?" 

"Yes?" she asked swiftly. 

"Try not to get into any trouble," he said, without looking at her. 

She stuck her tongue out at his back. 

"I saw that," he muttered. 

She couldn't help the smile that spread over her face. Both from the banter and the fact that she was leaving. 

She was going to Adarlan, finally, after asking for the past year. So, she set off in a rather preppy step to go see her cousin, Rhoe Ashryver. 

And yet, she was so, so very, oblivious to the prince in another world she would soon come in contact with. A dark, very powerful, future high lord. 


	2. Heart of Iron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for this giant info-dump of a chapter. There is a lot of second-generation :)

Evalin had stopped by her chambers to change out of her old clothes, into her more preferred ones. She had put on a simple pair of black trousers, her knee-high boots, and one of the many identical tunics she wore almost every day. A pine green one that fit her torso like a second skin. It didn't have sleeves, so it stopped low on her chest, arching into a heart-shape. It had seven buttons going down the front, the whole thing almost like a corset but without the skeleton. She usually trained in the attire, but it was comfortable. More comfortable than the dresses her mother had her wear every so often. 

Aelin didn't mind her daughter wearing trousers around the grounds. She encouraged it. Along with Lysandra. But she also enjoyed getting her dressed up, more for her pleasure than anything. Evalin couldn't count how many jewels and gowns her mother had in her chambers. Every time they had a ball, Aelin would storm into her room with Lysandra trailing behind her, a wide grin on her face. 

Evalin loathed the royal balls. Sam was the one who thoroughly enjoyed them, soaking in the eager eyes of young girls and ladies. But, of course, he never really _looked_ at any of them. He had his eyes set on another certain daughter of a lord. In Adarlan. Far away. Evalin thought it was pathetic. He only got to see Celaena three to five times a year. Maybe a little more than that, since Chaol Westfall visited Orynth quite often. King Dorian only came along sometimes. 

Evalin looked at herself now, into the mirror sitting on her dresser. Her prominent collar-bones, her wide shoulders. Her silver-white hair stopped just below her shoulder, a trait from her father. But then she looked at her mother's trait. _The_ Ashryver trait. Sam didn't inherit it. But she did. 

Turquoise eyes with a ring of gold in the center. 

She brought her hand up and traced the tattoos inked along her cheekbone. The side of her neck. The fae language trailed down her shoulder and stopped just above the elbow. She found a lump had formed in her throat. She had asked her father to ink her with the old language after...

Shaking her head, she let her hair drop to cover half her face before standing and slipping on the tough thin braces of leather onto her arms. They began halfway down her bicep and stopped at the wrist. She grabbed her dark brown cloak before leaving her chambers. 

The tavern didn't seem to be too crowded. The sun was just setting and a few of the constructors were sitting at tables in the corners, drinking after a long day of rebuilding. Even twenty-four years after the war, there was so much to be done.

Evalin strode forward making a beeline for the bar ahead. Some glanced up, before looking back down into their mugs of ale. One man whistled at her, and she had to stop herself from bashing his head into the table. Nobody could recognize her, with her silver hair hidden beneath her hood. If the man did recognize her, he would be running for the hills. 

She sat down on a stool and smiled faintly as she watched a tall, older man with close-cropped brown hair clean a mug. His name was Magnum, and he worked for her cousin. Only he and Evalin herself knew about his line of work. Magnum could have been between twenty-five and twenty-nine, but Evalin couldn't be sure. She had never had a real conversation with him. 

"What do you want, girl?" he muttered, without looking up at her. She propped an elbow onto the bar and lightly leaned her cheek against her knuckles. 

"Where is my cousin?" 

"He would like to be alone for a bit. Another one of his moods have come on," Magnum said, a warning in his voice. "You don't want to talk to him-"

"Thanks Maggie," Evalin said, already halfway to the door behind the bar. She had walked around while he was distracted. He didn't try to stop her. 

Swinging the door open, she was prepared for his snarl of warning, but none came. His back was turned to her, he was leaning over a cauldron, his hands braced on either side. He was brewing ale, his favorite hobby. If Aedion knew, he would likely have a heart attack. Not simply because of the hobby itself, but because he preferred it over fighting. So much more. 

Evalin wasn't meant to find out about the tavern he owned. But one night, after a big fight with her mother, she had wandered in. Rhoe never showed his face to his patrons, but she remembered smelling something so familiar after a few drinks, with her fae senses. The scent brought her comfort despite her lividness. She had followed the scent into the back room, only to find her cousin there. Brewing ale. 

"Your lover tells me you're having a bad night," she said by way of greeting, kicking the door shut behind her with her foot.

Rhoe groaned, turning his head slightly to the side. His raven hair was tied back in a band of leather, and she could see some stubble lining his jaw when he turned his head. 

"Something troubling you?" 

"I'm fine," he said distantly. He stood up to his full height-his hulking figure straightening itself. "I just... lost my medallion. Again."

"It will show up, Rhoe. It always does. Is that really what's irked you so?" 

"No. It's happening again," he said numbly. 

Evalin walked toward him, gripping his arm and turning him. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face. That's when she saw it. The stretch of white leopard print on the space between his neck and shoulder. He looked exhausted. 

"Rhoe. Breathe," she said carefully. " _You_ are in control." 

He nodded, breathing in, and then out. The leopard print disappeared, turning into olive skin again. 

"Good," she said softly. 

Rhoe had trouble sometimes... keeping his full human form. He had adopted his mother's abilities. But as a child, he would transform into things he saw. If he saw a bird, he would turn into a messed up version of it, too young to fully comprehend the angles and assets. He was never fully in control. Lysandra had no idea why because both she and her uncle had no trouble with the ability growing up. Unless they got too tired to shift. She suspected it had something to do with the fae blood, though he didn't have much of it since Aedion was only demi-fae. 

"So remind me again why you always have to barge into our-"

"Did Sam tell you?" Evalin asked, cutting him off. 

He glared at her mildly for a moment. "My father did." 

"Well, I want to see Rin." 

Rhoe shuddered. "Can't imagine why," he said. 

Evalin couldn't help but smile. Rhoe was afraid of Asterin Blackbeak Havilliard. As he should be. Though he would never admit it, he was even a little afraid of Evalin. 

"Well, I'm sure you're happy," she said, turning away from him and circling the small room, her boots lightly thudding against the wooden floorboards, the soft sound colliding with the chatter outside. 

"I suppose," he said. 

Rhoe also owned a tavern in Adarlan, though he didn't get to keep tabs on it often. Only by letters from his most trusted innkeeper and occasional flights during the night. Evalin always had to cover for him during these times, when he left for only a day or two. He would transform into some sort of bird, and fly to Adarlan after asking her to make up an excuse as to why he hadn't shown his face. Each time, she asked him to take her with him. Each time, he said no. 

"What about Magnum?" she asked, keeping her voice steady. She could practically see the glare Rhoe had fixed her with. 

"What do you want, Lin?" 

"Am I not allowed to say hello to my favorite cousin?" she asked innocuously. 

"No." 

She groaned. "Whatever. I'm getting a drink. I'll see you again when you close," she said, waving her hand dismissively. 

Orion had stopped his newest project for something more simple. He got frustrated and decided he would continue it tomorrow, tossing the chisel aside, and walking over to the pottery wheel instead. 

After an hour of spinning the wheel and getting clay everywhere, his mother opened the door as quietly as she could, walking in and smiling at him. At this point, he had taken his tunic off, sick of all the splatters getting on it. 

With his torso revealed, his tattoos were revealed as well. He only had the Illyrian tattoo on one shoulder and arm. He had completed the blood rite, quite easily, despite himself. It was one of the hardest things his mother had to do, letting him do something like that. His father was reluctant, but he let him do it. Orion _wanted_ to do it. If he hadn't wanted to, he probably wouldn't have to. When he was much younger, his aunt Nesta wanted Ailith to go to one of the Illyrian camps to train. She said it would make her stronger. Cassian agreed, just as reluctant as Rhys about the whole ordeal. 

But Ailith was scared. She had snuck into the estate the night before she was supposed to go, into Orion's room. The Illyrians were ruthless. So, the next day, early in the morning, Orion demanded he be sent to the camp with Ailith. Feyre had been bewildered, Rhys amused. 

He had shrugged and said it was his choice. His mother, though, had argued with him right until the second both he and Ailith were shipped off to the training camp. 

On his other shoulder and arm, he had a tattoo that went down his chest and pectoral, and down his arm stopping at the wrist. On his bicep, he had an eye for his mother. He had another eye on his wrist. Stars lined the vines and swirls throughout the tattoo. 

Now, his mother walked over to step behind him, running a hand through his always-messy hair. "I'm leaving," she said softly. He nodded, keeping his eyes on his hands, moving through the clay. "You have two hours. Lock the door on your way out, and please don't be late to dinner." He grunted a response. "Rion." 

He craned his neck, looking up at her. "I won't be late," he said. 

She smiled, satisfied. "Good," she said, before kissing the top of his head and leaving. 

Except he was late. He got lost in his work, and wouldn't realize how much time he had lost until two and a half hours later. 

Evalin patted Constance's thick neck, as Aedion tied the last of the supplies they would need to his mare. She looked around but saw no sign of Rhoe or his horse. 

"He's already on his way. He thought it better to travel by flight. It will be faster," Aedion said as if reading her thoughts and expression. 

She rolled her eyes. "Or he's avoiding Marion," she said. Aedion decided to ignore her comment. 

Marion Lochan. The daughter of Lorcan and Elide Lochan, also someone Rhoe courted for a while. Evalin almost laughed at the fact that he was avoiding seeing her. They were going to make a stop at Perranth since it was on the way. Marion wasn't Evalin's favorite person either. She envied her, though she would _never_ admit that to anyone. She had inherited Lord Lorcan's death abilities and was possibly the best fighter of all Erilea. With Evalin as a competitor. 

"Evalin," Sam warned, to her irritation. She was not a child to be chided. 

"Sam," she said, in the same tone laced with mockery. He just shook his head before placing one foot in his horse's foothold and hauling himself up. 

She did the same, Aedion following. She noticed the slight wince in his face, gone almost as quickly as it came. He injured his knee a few years ago, though he never admitted it bothered him sometimes. If anyone offered him help with _anything_ because of his knee, he would snap back. Except with Lysandra. He never snapped at her. Evalin always wondered if there was a reason for that. Even her parents snapped at each other every so often. 

Speaking of Lysandra, she had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing beside Aedion's horse. He leaned down so she could reach up on her tip-toes and kiss him softly. 

"Be careful," she said. He just nodded, and then took his reins in his hands. 

It took them a full three days to get to Perranth. All of which, Evalin wished Rhoe were there. They avoided outside villages, to which she was grateful. Evalin didn't feel like watching as all the younger girls fawned over her arrogant twin, with his pine green eyes and blonde Ashryver hair. Although, the same outcome came when they reached Perranth. The worst part was, Sam loved it. He got that from their mother. He bathed in all the glory. Evalin liked to not be seen. By anyone. 

When they got to Perranth, she couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia. She went there all the time, much more frequently than Adarlan. But she had a lot of memories as a child in the city. 

It was beautiful. It rivaled Orynth in that area. The city was enclosed with mountains, with miles of field going in each direction until it hit the lake or the Lanis river. The buildings were made of rich dark stone, somehow coinciding with the surroundings. What was most breathtaking was Perranth Castle. It was built along the mountain bordering the city, looking out over its people. The towers were almost as tall as the ones on the castle in Orynth. Almost. Evalin still preferred her own home North of Terrasen. 

It took them almost half an hour just to get through the walls (recently rebuilt, since the Adarlanian soldiers tore them down long ago) and to the front gates of the castle. The sun was just beginning to set by this time. 

Evalin had just hopped off Constance after her twin and uncle when a gleeful voice sounded. She lifted her head to see a weathered raven-haired woman rushing towards Aedion. He let out a low grunt when she flung herself into his arms, though he had a small smile on the corner of his mouth all the same as he wrapped his arms around her. Evalin couldn't help but let her eyes drift to Elide Lochan's leg, almost by instinct. She quickly looked away. 

She didn't remember much between the ages of one and three, but every once and a while she would have random memories of visiting the Lochan Castle and hearing bloodcurdling screams coming from somewhere in the castle. It was Elide. It took a very long time for Yrene Westfall to heal her leg. And no matter how much it hurt or how torturous it was for her to go through the process, she wanted it healed like it was a plague. She refused to have it amputated. But it was fully healed now. 

Her hair had grown lighter over the years, stray strands of gray hidden between the raven locks. When she pulled her face away from Aedion's shoulder, Evalin could see the faint wrinkles that had started to appear around her eyes and mouth. It was hard sometimes, to remember that she would remain young for hundreds of years to come, and one day some of those who helped raise her would be gone. But she had Sam. And perhaps the reason she sometimes loathed his close relationship with Celaena Westfall was that Sam would realize she would age and he wouldn't. She didn't want her twin to give up his life for a human girl. 

But she would never speak those words out loud. Not ever. 

"I don't remember you being that heavy," Aedion said. Elide glared at him before punching him in the shoulder. He laughed softly and she smiled, despite her glare. 

She then turned from him to look at Sam and Evalin, her grin widening. "Look at you!" she said, pulling them both into a hug. They had to hunch down a little. "Oh, you start to look like your parents more each day!" 

"Don't remind me," Evalin muttered. 

Elide laughed and pulled back, patting Sam's cheek and letting go. 

"Where's Lorcan?" Aedion asked. 

"With Marion hunting. They should be back by dinnertime." 

At this, Sam paled a little. Evalin grinned. She absolutely _admired_ Lorcan, whereas, he might have been Sam's worse fear. 

She remembered being seven, at one of their dinners in the Galathynius Castle. She was sitting beside Lorcan, with Sam on her other side. The whole time she had been staring at him in amazement, to his growing irritation. She even started asking him a million questions. 

"Where did you get this scar?" she asked, pointing to yet another scar on his forearm, the sleeve of his tunic rolled up. This was the tenth one she pointed to and asked about. He suddenly couldn't take it anymore. 

"From a pesky little girl who I then flayed alive," he snapped quietly. He had been avoiding her mother's hearing, but that was impossible. She looked across the table at him with a glare. But Evalin's eyes only lit up. 

"Really? How? Oh, please tell me how!" she begged. Sam looked like he wanted to get as far away from the mountain of the man as possible, but Evalin just wanted to hear all the gory details about his old adventures. He had then continued to stare at her incredulously and shake his head, exasperated. 

But over the years Lorcan had grown fond of her, and her slightly disconcerting interests. 

"Come on," Elide said, turning on her heel and walking toward the hulking castle. 

Evalin found herself in her mother's chambers. Well, what would be her mother's chambers if it had been her there instead of Evalin. It was all a little too grand for her. If she were honest with herself, even her chambers back at home were too much. She preferred a rickety inn room. 

But Elide had told her before leaving that dinner would be ready in the next half an hour or so, so she didn't waste time bathing and changing into more proper attire. The best thing she could find to wear was a simple purple dress lined with black. She didn't do anything with her hair, just left it skimming her shoulders. 

She was still late. 

Walking into the grand eating hall way past the time she was expected wasn't the most mortifying thing she had ever done. What got on her nerves was Aedion, Sam, Elide, and Lorcan with faint smiles on their lips, listening to Marion Lochan go on and on about something not worth listening to. They all lifted their heads when she made her footsteps loud as she entered the large room. Marion shot up from her seat, a wide grin on her mouth. 

"Evalin! There you are!" She ran over and wrapped her arms around Evalin, to her disgust. "Oh, how I've missed you. Where have you been?" 

Evalin looked past Marion and to Sam, who was raising an expectant eyebrow at her. 

"I got distracted," she said flatly. 

"Not too worry. Please come sit beside me," Marion said, taking Evalin's hand and leading her over to the table. She sat down, pulling Evalin down beside her. Lorcan nodded to Evalin politely, on the other side of her. She gave him a wicked grin he could only shake his head at. 

Evalin then looked across the table at Sam, who was staring straight at her. Although his face was blank, she knew exactly what he was thinking. 

_Be nice._

It was a twin thing. He knew what she was thinking at all times, and vice versa. It was quite irritating. To other people, as well. As children, they would often giggle and do the mind trick at the dinner table, sending each other looks making fun of whatever guest they had that night, or sharing secrets. Aelin would always snap at them to knock it off, but Evalin always caught the smirk she tried so hard to suppress. 

Evalin stared back at him. 

_I don't know what you're talking about, brother. I am always nice._

A crease formed in between his brows. 

_Is that a joke?_

"So, I was thinking," Marion said excitedly, dragging Evalin's attention away from Sam. "Can we train tomorrow morning in the training hall? Oh! But before that, we have to take a walk around the city. Oh, please Evalin it would be so much fun! I do so enjoy training with you the most." 

_Because I am the only one you cannot beat,_ Evalin thought. 

She smiled, nonetheless. "Sure. Sounds fun. As long as it's okay with my uncle..." Evalin looked toward Aedion, who was listening intently to something Lorcan was saying across the table. He caught Evalin's eye and just nodded simply. 

Marion squealed in delight. 

Orion wiped his brow with the back of his forearm, sleeking it with wet clay. He grimaced, blinking as if he hadn't in so long. His eyes stung, and he realized just how much more the room had dimmed than what felt like a few moments before. Oh no. 

"What is that supposed to be?" a deep, raspy voice sounded from right beside his ear. 

Orion jumped to his feet, spinning around and readying to take down who the hell was there. 

Candor blinked at him, towering over him. Then a small smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. "Did I scare you?" 

"Not funny," Orion growled, his shoulders easing somewhat. 

Candor, Orion's best friend. He was still wearing his ghost-white garb, light grey knee-high boots, white skin-tight tunic, white trousers, his light grey belt that held his blades Mor had gifted him when he was only ten. He was only missing his black cape and hood. He must have just got back from a job. He was Azriel's son, and two years younger than Orion. 

Candor was taller than most. Orion stood six feet and five inches, but Candor was at least seven feet tall. Maybe a little more. A scar dragged from his top lip down to the base of his chin, a trophy from one of his hires. Another scar Orion couldn't see currently lay on the crook between his neck and shoulder. That one was a little less serious. A token earned from one of his angry exes. Orion had laughed his ass off when Candor explained. 

Orion's best friend didn't know who his mother was. Azriel didn't, either. It was a shock. His uncle had always seemed the lonely, quiet type. But as Mor once explained to him, Azriel woke up one day ready to repeat the cycle of every day, except there was a baby on his doorstep that day. 

In the beginning, Azriel didn't even think the baby was _his_. But as Candor grew older, everyone noticed how scarily similar he looked to Azriel. They were almost _identical_. Well, except for the white streak in Candor's hair... and the golden eyes. That's right. Candor had _gold_ eyes. 

A few months after Candor was left on Azriel's doorstep, he realized his son was cursed. By a witch. Nobody knew how. It had to have happened either before he was even born, or immediately after. So, Rhysand paid a very powerful witch to make an amulet to stop the curse from spreading. Candor was forced to keep the amulet on him at all times. Or... bad things would happen. Candor refused to tell Orion what. 

There was another thing that differed Candor from his father. He had no Illyrian wings. Mor and Feyre checked his back when he got a little older for stumps, or scars, but there was none. He was simply born without them. A trait he got from his mother, whoever that was. 

Candor, Ailith, and Orion were the closest, growing up. When Ailith and Orion went to the camps, he wanted to go so badly. Azriel had to carefully explain to him that, he couldn't. Orion knew the truth. He wouldn't have been accepted there. Ailith and Orion would have to defend him from the others every waking second. Candor has always been a little sensitive. Definitely a trait of his fathers. 

But now, Candor was the most feared spy in the whole of Prythian. Well, the White Shadow was. Only the inner circle knew Candor was the White Shadow. He couldn't take all the credit, though. He was partnered with Amyria, Amren, and Varion's daughter. She was the most feared assassin in all of Prythian.

"What time is it?" Orion asked, panicking slightly. 

"Oh, you're late for dinner by the way."

"So are you!" 

"They think I'm in the bathroom. I was hoping you could..." Candor nodded. "You know-"

Before he could finish, Orion grabbed Candor's arm and winnowed them away. 

When they reappeared right outside his family's manor on the hill, overlooking Velaris, Candor was unphased. He looked up at the hulking house. 

"Your father's going to kill you," Candor deadpanned. 

"Shut up," Orion snapped. "I'm going through the window. How did you even get out without anyone noticing you?" He looked towards his friend, who only cocked his head to the side. "Right. Stupid question. You get back inside, I'll be down soon. I have to change." Orion looked down at his clay-smattered clothes. 

Candor could go undetected anywhere, just like his father. He was the definition of vigilant, but what amplified that ability, was his amulet. It stopped his curse from spreading, yes, but it was also an amplifier. It boosted his abilities. Every time Amyria blessed what she called his "beautiful assets" his eyes widened slightly and he stared at Amyria with a slight blush in his cheeks. 

"Good luck," Candor said. But when Orion turned, his friend was gone. 

The next morning, Evalin had put on her usual attire before meeting Marion by the gate of the castle so they could walk the surrounding city together. As it turns out, Marion was a morning person. Evalin was not. 

"Oh, and they are _still_ restoring the library! Can you believe that? Of course, it is nothing compared to the one on Orynth. Oh, you like to read, don't you, Lin?" Marion asked as she skipped through a bazaar next to Evalin. 

Evalin shot her a baffled look at the use of her nickname. "Uh, not really. That's Sam. Sam likes reading." 

Marion looked guilty for a split-second, but the look was gone as soon as it came. 

"Oh! Right. Sorry." Marion folded her hands in front of her, bowing her head slightly. Evalin looked at her, feeling a little guilty herself. She wasn't being fair. But... she never clicked with Marion. Even as children. 

"So, what do you-" Evalin never got to finish her sentence. 

Marion grinned at a toddler running through shops, squealing in delight and seemingly running for something. To Evalin's disgust, it started running towards them, but Marion swooped the little girl up into her arms without a problem. 

"Well hello there!" Marion exclaimed. "Aren't you a cutie?" 

Evalin scowled. She hated children. A heaving young woman stopped in front of them, letting out a long breath. 

"Oh, my lady. I'm _so_ sorry-"

"Don't be!" Marion said, shooting the woman a smile that showed way too many teeth. "She's adorable," she said, before handing the child back to its mother. 

"Oh," the woman said, looking baffled. "Why, thank you, my lady-"

"Alright, well time to go," Evalin said, grabbing Marion's bicep and dragging her away. Marion gave her a baffled look but followed. 

"What's wrong?" 

"That was hard to watch," Evalin said, letting go when they were a distance away. She brushed her hair back from her face, only for it to curtain down to brush her shoulders again. 

"Please. Don't tell me that doesn't happen to you back at Orynth all the time. The baffled looks, the stuttering. The gawking. I bet it happens to you a lot more often than me. You're a _princess_!" Marion laughed but stopped when she saw the look on Evalin's face. 

"No," she said softly. "It doesn't. That's all Sam. I'm just the freak with the silver hair and magic. My people are _afraid_ of me." 

She expected pity, but Marion just looked deep in thought. 

That was the thing. Sam didn't have any magic. He had strength and pointed ears. And... well at least he could shift. Evalin couldn't. Sam could shift into a golden eagle. For years Evalin tried to shift. She tried so hard. But she couldn't. Sam tried not to shift often because of this. He didn't want to upset her, although she swore she didn't care. 

"So what is the deal with you and infants?" Marion asked, changing the subject. 

"I despise them." 

"Why?" Marion asked. Evalin ignored her. "Oh come on, don't tell me that one day, when you're utterly in love and... have a partner, you won't want to have children? What if you get lucky and find your mate?" 

Evalin stopped walking abruptly. Her eyes were wide with simmering rage. Marion sensed her mistake and took a small step back. Slowly, so slowly, Evalin touched the skin below her eye. Where her tattoo began on her cheekbone. Then she touched her neck.

"I have no mate," she said, in a cold dead voice. 

Marion bit her lip, obviously trying to fix her mistake. 

"You want to train?" Evalin snapped. "Let's train." And then she made her way back to the castle. 

Orion hurriedly buttoned up his tunic, all the way up to his neck. Then he straightened the attire. It was lined with silver, swirls all over. He then ran his hands through his always-mussed hair. Nothing he could do about that. He cleared his throat, preparing himself. Then, slowly, he opened his door and walked into the hall. 

It felt like it took him forever to get into the grand dining room. But as soon as he walked in, the conversation seemed to die a little. Orion looked to his father first. He held his mother's hand in one hand, and the other held his jaw. He seemed to be laughing at something Cassian was saying on his other side. But his eyes shot up the moment Orion walked in, and his smile faded. 

All three of his uncles were there. Lucien, Azriel, and Cassian. Along with his aunts. Nesta, Elain, and Mor. Along with his many cousins and friends. Candor sat next to Amyria, who looked annoyed, as always. Apollas, a cousin of Orion's and Elain and Lucien's son, sat next to... Seph. She looked beautiful. Wearing her spring court colors, her long voluminous blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and back. No sign of Tamlin. Ailith sat across from Candor, with an empty seat for him next to her. On her other side was Cassian, her father. And... next to his mother was-

Orion's breath caught. He suddenly didn't care that he was late. Nothing mattered. 

"Mara," Orion said. 

His gaze was met with a violet eye and an ice blue eye. His sister lifted her head, looking bored, to look at him. But then she grinned. She stood, her long deep purple dress splitting at her leg to reveal the tattoo on her thigh. From a bargain. 

"Orion!" she said softly, spreading her arms. 

Orion raced forward, grabbing her in an embrace and practically lifting her off the floor. She hated it when he did that. His father was smiling again. When he pulled back and put her down, she had a wicked smile. 

Mara had been across the continent, working with the high priestesses. She was three years younger than Orion, and twenty. 

Orion loved hearing the story of how his mother became pregnant with Mara. They had only expected one child. They always said how lucky they were to have Orion, since having children wasn't easy for the fae. But Orion had been three, and Rhys had been worried Feyre had been sick as of late. But the healer said she was with-child. And they had been so happy to have another. 

And then Mara was born. Orion's baby sister. His bitter, wicked, baby sister. 

Everyone called her the Princess of Darkness. 

Orion knew there was a darkness inside of his sister that he did not possess. Amren once said Mara had fought her way out of hell to get here. Orion sometimes believed it. She was a Daemoni. She could get into people's heads so easily. She was cold. Calculating. She had a crescent moon tattoo on her forehead from yet another bargain. She received many lectures from their parents after. The thought of love disgusted her. In her eyes, love was a weakness. But... what unnerved Orion all the more was her powers. She had dark magic. She was always in the library with the high priestesses. Where Orion was compassion, she was manipulation. 

But she cared for her family. And if one were to cross any of them. Orion feared for them. Because of Mara. Amren and Nesta adored her. So did Mor, for different reasons. She had one crystal blue eye, and one deep violet one. And she had freckles smattered across her cheeks and nose, much like their mother and Orion. Although, she got their father's hair. Vast blackness cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, to her hips. 

Mara's full name was Mara Clare. But everyone called her Mara. She pulled away from Orion's embrace, and he could see her sharp, black nails. Her wings weren't out at the moment, so she had glamoured them. 

"Now, please sit unless you plan on continuing your absence," she said, patting his shoulder, and returning to her seat. 

Orion got into his seat, next to Ailith. He looked at his sister again, as if to convince himself she was still there. But she was. She was swirling her drink in her cup while Mor ranted about something. Everything went back to normal. 

Rion was a Daemoni, too. Except, he hadn't had a handle on the ability as Mara had. Or even, as his father had. His father often talked about how he could easily get into people's heads at the age of three if he truly wanted to. But Orion wasn't even aware of the ability until he was eight. Mara had it since she was a baby. But by the time he was twelve, he was starting to master it. Mara was nine, and already a pro. 

Often, at the breakfast table, they would speak into each other's minds, giggling and glancing at their parents. Until they heard their father's teasing voice in their heads. 

_What are you talking about?_

They had both burst into a fit of laughter, and their mother had shaken her head. 

"Let's use our mouths, please," she said, feigning annoyance, even though a smile played at her lips. 

Rhys had looked at her, and it was obvious he was saying something into her mind, except when Orion and Mara tried to see, her shield had been locked up tightly. A moment later Feyre blinked at him and kicked him hard under the table. Orion cringed, but Mara was still unaware at her age. 

Now, he was staring at his plate, the laughter and talking fading into background noise. 

_What's wrong, brother?_

Orion looked up. Mara was pretending to be interested in whatever Mor was talking about. 

_He's disappointed. I can feel it._

Mara did look at him this time. 

_Do not mistake his concern for disappointment._

Orion looked over at his father. He was nodding slowly, while Lucien explained something. His mother was looking at Lucien. 

_Incoming_ , Mara warned, a second before a familiar young redhead walked into the room. 

Orion's gaze hardened. Apollas stood for his cousin. Lucien paled. 

Dolos swiftly sat into an empty chair beside Apollas. Nobody seemed surprised to see him. Only Lucien looked slightly ill. Elain put her hand on his knee, calming him. Dolos was Eris Vanserra's son. Lucien's nephew and Apollas's cousin. Though Orion bore no bloodline with him, he was related to his uncle and cousin. And Orion hated him with a passion. 

"Sorry that took so long, I got a letter from my father. Oh, Orion. You're here. About time," Dolos said smoothly, pushing back his fiery red hair. 

Apollas grimaced. 

"Yeah. So, what are _you_ doing here?" Orion snapped. In the corner of his eye, he saw his father shoot him a warning glance, but he ignored it. 

"Why, I was traveling with my dearest uncle and cousin, of course. Am I not a part of the family?" 

"Not mine," Orion said without hesitation. He saw Seph stop whatever she was saying to look at him, her eyebrow raised. He ignored her as well. 

Apollas cleared his throat. 

"Well, now, Dolos is leaving with us in the morning, anyway. I'm taking him back to the Day Court with me. We have matters to discuss. Right, Dolos?" Apollas winked at Orion. 

Orion hadn't been that close with Apollas growing up. Apollas grew up in the Day Court for the most part, and he lived there mainly. But of course, he would come to the Night Court often, mostly due to Elain. While Orion, Candor, and Ailith trained with their fathers, Apollas would sit on the sidelines, writing in his leather notebook. He was dangerous in other ways. He could be charming and roguish to one's face but be planning murder on the inside. He was very... devil-may-care. 

Apollas had a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose much like Orion and Mara, but that was the only trait they shared. His eyes were a hazelnut brown, and his hair was red-lighter than Lucien's. More auburn than anything. It was always tied back in a leather band, cascading down his back, with strands loose around his face. He chose charm over brawling. He was calculating over rash. And... he was poetic. With a thing for Hyacinths. 

A scar made its way from the corner of his right eye, down his cheek to the edge of his jaw. Although, if anyone asked how he had gotten it, he would freeze and stare at nothing. Until he didn't have to answer. 

And _nobody_ ever insulted his mother without losing a limb. Orion learned a long time ago to _never_ speak badly of Elain Archeron in front of Apollas. Unless you had a death wish. But for the most part, he was a lover, not a fighter. 

Orion rolled his eyes at his cousin, before looking away. His eyes caught onto Seph's dark green gaze. She stared at him for a moment, before her lips turned up into one of her famous, intoxicating smiles. Orion used to wake up to that smile. He used to see it every single day. He looked away, completely disregarding her. Candor frowned at him from across the table, but he wasn't in the mood for lectures. 

Amyria suddenly burst into laughter, in an unladylike matter, grabbing onto Candor's arm to keep her from falling out of her chair. Candor wasn't focused on Orion anymore. He was staring at her hand on his arm, looking bewildered and a little exhilarated. 

Amyria was the perfect combination of Varion and Amren. Slightly up-tilted eyes, tan skin, grey eyes, white hair, and probably the most beautiful high fae of the Summer Court. She trained with Azriel mostly growing up, becoming rather close with Candor. But she was closest with Seph and Apollas. They were a group, the three of them. Much like Orion, Mara, Candor, and Ailith were a group. But in truth, all of them were one big group together. With very different personalities. 

She has an hour-glass necklace around her neck. A gift from Nesta. Some said it held the amount of time her targets had to live. Every time someone asked, Amyria would shrug and smirk. She was scary. And badass. And Orion liked to stay far away from her for the most part. But not Candor. To tell it how it is-

Candor is in love with Amyria. 

Everyone knew it. Except for Amyria. She was too busy, flirting, having lovers. And it was all to spite her mother. Amren had a bizarre relationship with her mother. They screamed at each other, often throwing sharp objects at each other during holidays. But they loved each other. They played games with each other. Amyria flaunted beautiful men, kissing them, touching them inappropriately at family events. And all to get a rise out of her mother. 

Orion just wished she would realize Amren wasn't the only one being affected by it. 

That night, Evalin had a dream. Not just a dream, a memory. From when she was sixteen, and her mother threw her a ball because _turning sixteen was a very big deal_. Maybe for a human. But she wasn't human. 

She was excited, despite the nonsense. She let her mother dress her, put a little bit of cosmetics on her face. It was Sam's ball, too. But Aelin often reminded her that boys didn't care about these things. It was _her_ night. Evalin had butterflies in her stomach. When she looked in the mirror, she didn't recognize herself. She had no tattoo yet. 

Her hair was up, with little ringlets coming down around her face. Her Ashryver eyes _shined_. Her dress was a beautiful pine-green one that blossomed around her, creating a sweetheart neckline over the curves of her breasts. She anticipated every second. 

Everything was perfect. Until she began walking down those stairs in the ballroom. Her mother had told her all about the young lords and princes that would be there. She stressed how they would surround her, _begging_ for her first dance, and that her father would have an absolute fit but she would keep him from ripping heads off. Evalin laughed at that part. 

But when she got to the bottom of the stairs, no young men had come to her, begging for a dance. It was just a bunch of blinking faces. Her face heated. She was suddenly so aware of her pointed ears. And she feared her canines would shoot out any second now. They came out when she was afraid or... she blushed. The second part was a recent discovery she had. Her eyes stung as she looked out at the crowd. They were looking at her as if she didn't belong. In her castle. At her ball. 

Where was Sam? Sam, Sam, Sam. She was starting to panic. 

But then she saw long pale hair. Pointed ears. Suddenly, Fenrys was at her side, looking handsome in his Terrasen-colored attire, smiling at her warmly, towering over her with his hand held out for her to place her hand in. 

She looked up at him through her lashes, her face warming. He waited patiently. She felt herself smile, before placing her hand in his. He closed his fingers around her hand and led her to the center of the grand room that sometimes felt too big. Everyone was watching them, but Fenrys didn't seem nervous. He seemed like he belonged. And then he was pulling her closer, placing her other hand on his shoulder, leading her. 

It was the most fun she had ever had before in her life. They danced all night. Nobody else asked her to dance, but she stopped caring. He made her stop caring. He twirled her and made her laugh. He made her forget how mortified she felt at the beginning of the night. Towards the end, when Evalin was watching Sam dance with some young daughter of a lord, Fenrys had leaned in to whisper to conspiratorially. 

"Are you bored yet?" he asked. She looked at him, before grinning wide. 

Ten minutes later, Evalin was holding her skirts in her hands and running wildly in the fields outside the castle walls, Fenrys in wolf form at her side. And it was raining. It was pouring, soaking her and soaking his fur. And she didn't have a care in the world. It was the best night of her life. The best birthday. 

She realized something that night. And it would only be four more years before she would realize that it wasn't real. That it was completely one-sided. It would be four more years before her world shattered. Before Fenrys would-

Evalin shot up in bed, gasping and touching the tattoo on her cheek. All she saw was blood. So much blood. She was desperately trying to get air in her lungs, the bed soaked with sweat beneath her. 

When she caught her breath, she closed her eyes, pressing her hand to her neck, where some of her tattoos lay. 

"It's been three years," she whispered harshly to herself. Even though she couldn't get the image of all the blood out of her head. 

A knock sounded, making Evalin flinch. 

"Evalin? Ready to train again before you leave for Adarlan?" Marion asked. 

Yesterday had left her sore and even more angry than before. Marion killed everyone with kindness. She was selfless and kind, and honest. But when it came to fighting... she was bloodthirsty. She was just as bloodthirsty as she was kind. 

"Yeah. Give me five minutes, I'll be right out." Evalin didn't wait for Marion to respond before getting out of bed. 

She tried to forget about the memory and Fenrys as she pulled her trousers on. 


	3. Adarlan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! If you're still here for chapter three, thank you so much! Just a warning, I intended for this story to be between Orion and Evalin, but after some thought I think I will go into other character's point of view's just because I want you all to see these different dynamics and tropes of the second generation. But don't worry, Orion and Evalin are still the stars :)

"Don't worry!" Marion called from across the room. "I'll go easy on you." 

"Oh boy," Sam muttered from the side. 

"I don't need you to go easy on me, Marion. Don't flatter yourself," Evalin snapped. She could hear Lorcan chuckling lowly. 

They had an audience this morning. Sam, Aedion, and Lorcan all stood to the side, arms crossed over their broad chests. Sam and Aedion would have looked identical if Sam's hair was longer and he had the Ashryver eyes. Evelyn's gaze met his pine green one. He nodded subtly. 

Marion had flipped her switch. One moment she was sweet, offering Evalin water, some more warm-up time. The next... all kindness vanished. Now, she looked like a wolf looking for its prey. She was bloodthirsty. She changed out of her green Terrasen dress, into more appropriate attire. And... she had her iron nails. Not biological, of course. Asterin Blackbeak Havilliard made them for her. Attachable. Useful. Marion held them up to her face now, proud. Sharp as hell. But Evalin wasn't scared. 

Nothing scared her. 

"Ready?" Marion asked, her voice lilting. 

Evalin twirled her blade in one hand. 

"I've been ready," she said casually. Marion scoffed. 

"Really? Because-" 

Evalin threw her blade in the blink of an eye. Marion ducked, avoiding it. Evalin grinned, barely aware of the noise it made as it hit the wall. Marion was pissed now. Good. She lunged. Evalin stepped to the side, kicking her back. Marion retaliated by slicing out with her nails. Evalin ducked, before unsheathing another blade and swiping low. It cut her thigh, making a hole and swelling up some blood. Marion didn't even notice. She spun and grabbed Evalin by the hair, kicking her legs out from under her in one fluid motion. 

She groaned as she fell right on her ass, the bone screaming. She didn't realize that her canines had elongated in her carelessness and anger. Evalin jumped up and swung with her fist, missing entirely. 

Her father's voice rung out in her head. 

_You have a temper, Evalin. But you cannot let your anger get the best of you. You have to use it, but do not become blind with it._

Stay focused. She arched back when Marion swiped with her nails again, groaning as she bent backward, looking up at the ceiling and those glinting nails. When Marion pulled back, she came back up, taking a step back and then bringing her foot up, ready to collide it with Marion's head. Marion grabbed her foot, and wouldn't let go. She smirked, twisting. Evalin cried out, suddenly reaching out to grab Marion by the neck. Marion's eyes widened and she let out a scream. Evalin was burning her. She grinned as her icy blue flames shot out of her fingers, singing Marion's skin. She let go of her foot. 

"Evalin, stop!" Aedion yelled. 

Marion's eyes narrowed, and she grabbed Evalin's hand, her nostrils flaring. Evelyn's flames stopped coming. The world was wobbly. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Black. Nothing. End. The end. She was dying. She was looking death right in the face. 

"Marion, that's enough! Control yourself before you kill her!" Lorna's voice. But so far away. 

Evalin fell to her knees, gasping. The blackness was sweeping in. She fought it. No. Not ready. 

"Marion!" 

Suddenly the blackness ebbed away, and Evalin felt air rush to her lungs. She gasped, keeping herself from face planting with her hand pressed to the cold ground. 

"Oh my god," Marion muttered. "Lin, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up," Evalin snapped, her voice raspy. "You... you were going to use your powers on me." 

Marion looked horrified, herself. "I... I couldn't-" She looked away. Sam rushed to Evalin's side. 

"Lin, you okay?" he asked, helping her up. He was pale. And sweaty. His hair looked soaked with sweat. Evalin looked at him, her brow furrowed. 

"Did you feel that?" she asked. He didn't say anything. He just smiled and patted her on the back. Evalin looked over to where Marion had been standing. But she and Lorcan were on the far side of the room now. Lorcan was crouched down so they were level, and it looked like he was calmly explaining something to her. She was nodding, her head bowed. 

Evalin couldn't help but feel bad for her. Just a little. It must have been hard, having the ability to murder someone in the blink of an eye. Just... take their life. Who was she kidding? Evalin didn't feel bad. She loathed the girl. 

"So," she said, looking between her uncle and twin, lifting her head to look up into their faces. "Did I win?" 

"Ugh, this would be more entertaining if Rhoe were here," Evalin said. Sam let out an obnoxious sigh. 

"We're almost there, Evalin." Aedion rode a few feet in front of them. 

"So," Evalin said nonchalantly. "Are we excited to see anyone specific?" They both ignored her. "I mean, I'm excited to see Rin but... that's platonic. You know?" Sam groaned. "Are we thinking about... any young, pretty healers? The type with the magic, not the ordinary ones. Golden, curly hair... has a father with no sense of humor?" 

"Evalin!" Sam snapped. Evalin grinned. 

"Knew it." 

Aedion sighed, shaking his head slightly in front of them. 

It's been two days since they left Perranth. And Evalin was getting fucking bored. But they were in Oakwald Forest. So, she was hoping to start seeing castle walls at any moment. Or even the city of Rifthold. A boat, the Avery, anything. 

And then she saw it. Rifthold. Evalin threw out her arms. "Finally!" 

After dinner, they had all moved to the parlor. Which was way too big to be a parlor. But they were kind of separated. Orion and all of the second-generation on one side, and his father and the rest on one. Having their conversations. It was because the others didn't want them to hear the politics talk. Even though each of them were bound to be leaders one day, to take their places. 

"Oh, Seph," Apollas said, taking Seph's hand and twirling her around in her springy dress. "You just look absolutely ravishing. Do tell, where is that pesky father of yours? Wasn't he supposed to be here?" 

Seph giggled at his compliments but quickly straightened at his question. Orion was glaring murderously at Apollas. "There's some activity on the border. He had to make sure everything was okay, though he wishes he could be here." 

Ailith snorted at that. Seph looked over at her. "Every year," she muttered. 

"Do you have a problem, Ailith?" Seph asked, looking down at her. Orion felt his blood boil when Seph's eyes drifted towards Ailith's wings and a glimmer of disgust shone in her eyes. She caught Orion looking, and paled. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Orion looked away from her. 

Amyria was still in her assassin garb, a little darker than Candor's. Light grey. She had one leg crossed over the other, and Mara was whispering something to her. She then stood abruptly and folded her hands behind her back, slowly circling the area, and shooting daggers at Seph. Mara never liked Seph. She probably caught the look she had at Ailith's wings as well, which wasn't good. 

"Oh, Mara. Forgive me, I forgot to tell you how dashing you look as well. In fact, all my ladies look brilliant tonight. And Candor," Apollas said, winking at Candor, who raised his eyebrows. 

"Please, dear cousin do not make me empty my dinner onto the floor," Mara said as if she was talking about the weather. 

A thunder of laughter interrupted their thoughts, having them all turn to look at the others. It was Cassian, of course. Azriel was smiling slightly, while Cassian lost his breath in his laughter. Nesta glared at him, and he looked at her with a wicked grin. She gave him an irritated look, before sighing and resting her head on his shoulder. 

They all returned to their bouts. 

Orion turned to see Seph get up from her seat and move to sit right next to him, hip to hip. She grinned, resting her elbow on his shoulder, to his irritation. "Hi." 

"Hi," he said, looking away from her. 

"How are you?" 

"Fine." 

"You look good." 

"Thanks." Orion looked anywhere but at her. 

"Rion," she said softly, almost breathlessly. He froze at the familiar noise. And then he looked at her. She was looking at him with hurt in her eyes. "Why won't you look at me?" They sat there, staring at each other in silence for a moment. 

"Did you find your mate yet?" he asked, almost spitting the words out as if they were venom. She looked as if he just striked her. 

"I..." Her voice trailed off, and she bowed her head. She shook her head and got up, moving to her original place next to Amyria. Amyria looked over at her, her brows creasing, before whispering. Probably asking if she was okay. 

Orion didn't care. He hoped it hurt. He was vaguely aware of Mara smiling as if she heard everything. And enjoyed it. 

"So Orion," Dolos began, loud enough for all of them to hear. Rion tensed. "How's... your training?" 

Orion looked up at him. "What?" 

"Oh, I mean for high lord. Surely you've started learning everything there is to know. With your father's age and everything..." Dolos smirked. Orion blinked. His father was _young_ for a fae. He could live for another six-hundred years and he would still be young. 

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded. Dolos looked at him innocently. 

"Well, I'm talking about the curse of the Night High Lords, of course. It's only a matter of time before _he_ hits the bucket. And then what? Your mother rules? Oh, the other courts wouldn't allow such a thing. So have you started training?" Dolos was enjoying this. Eric trained him. Gave him a fucking script. 

Apollas shifted in his seat. Everyone seemed to still. Candor was looking at Dolos beneath lowered brows. 

Orion stood. Slowly. So slowly. "Why wouldn't that be okay, Dolos?" he asked. "Hypothetically, of course. Because we have no curse and you have no idea what the _fuck_ you're talking about." 

Dolos's smile widened. "Why wouldn't the other high lords be okay with your mother ruling the Night Court?" he laughed heartily. "Well, because she's a whore." 

Mara's eyes were suddenly on fire, blazing. But she made no move. Orion's nostrils flared. He looked over his shoulder. The others were no longer in the room with them. They moved somewhere else. His father wasn't around. That was why Dolos so confidently just insulted his mother. He looked back to Dolos. 

"You have a death wish, Dolos," Orion spat. 

"Do I? For what? Telling you how it is? I know you haven't spent much time outside the Night Court, my dearest friend. But let me tell you what it's like. People talk. About your big bad scary... high lord." He smirked as if that was a joke. "And about his wife who- wasn't even born fae. Why would we let some lowborn ex _human_ rule one of the courts? And you? Well, you're soft. You don't have what it takes. This whole court is corrupt," Dollas spat. 

And that was it. Orion could no longer contain himself. He unleashed his power. 

Dolos's eyes widened, and he grabbed his own throat with his hand. Everyone shot up. But Orion was smiling. Dolos cried out, grabbing his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "Stop!" he croaked. "Make it stop." 

Orion slowly walked up to him, feeling night swirl around himself. "I want you to repeat everything you just said again," he said, not recognizing his voice. "Call me weak again. Insult my parents again. So I can have a reason to kill you." 

Dolos continued to choke, and hold his head, rubbing his temples. Orion pressed harder. Then the redhead screamed out in pain. Excruciating pain. 

"Rion stop!" Candor yelled from behind him. He felt two pairs of hands grip his shoulders. Apollas and Candor. He threw them off of him with half a thought. 

"Mara make him stop!" Apollas yelled. "Please!" 

Orion's smile grew as he watched the blood vessels in Dolos's eyes pop. But suddenly, Dolos dropped to the floor and gasped. Orion's brow creased. It stopped. But Orion hadn't wanted it to stop. He grabbed Dolos by the jacket and hauled him up, shoving him up against the wall. But his father was there in a second. _That_ was why his magic had stopped working. 

Rhys hauled him back, pressing a hand hard against his chest, his face full of rage. "Take a walk!" he yelled. Orion's face turned red with anger. 

"Did you-" 

"Go!" Rhys boomed. 

Orion hesitated. He looked at Ailith and Candor, who looked away from him. With shame. He looked back to his father's angry face, and then looked at his sister, who was looking at Dolos as if he was a bug she must squish beneath her heel. 

"Mara," Rhys said, barely getting the words out calmly. She looked to her father. "I will deal with you later." She frowned. 

"Me?" 

"Yes," he snapped. " _You._ " 

Orion turned away, straightening his tunic before walking out of the room. He left the estate, before winnowing away. 

Evalin and Sam walked into the throne room behind their uncle, Evalin simmering with excitement. On the throne, sat Dorian Havilliard. His hair should have been starting to grey. His skin starting to wrinkle. But he didn't look a day over thirty. It was because of Celaena Westfall. Ever since she turned fifteen she started helping her mother try to create an immortality spell. After all these years they were still unsuccessful but they were able to slow Dorian's aging. Chaol Westfall refused to take it. 

Next to the throne stood Chaol himself. Dorian looked them over for a moment before his face cracked into a huge, boyish grin and he hopped up, practically skipping down the dais to embrace Aedion. Aedion laughed haughtily before catching Dorian's embrace, Chaol trailing behind, a faint smile on his face. He gave Aedion a simple handshake. Dorian then turned to the twins. 

"Look at you two!" he said, spreading his arms wide. Evalin smiled and couldn't help the slight blush that crept across her cheeks. Dorian always had that effect. "You get bigger every time I see you." 

"We haven't aged in quite some time, but we still appreciate the compliments," Evalin said. Sam couldn't stay still. She could tell the only thing keeping him from bursting back out the doors and to the healer's tower was his politeness. 

He cleared his throat. "Um, where is Lane- I mean- Lady Westfall?" he asked, his knee bouncing slightly. Chaol raised an eyebrow. 

"The healer's-" He didn't get to finish his sentence, because Sam was already gone. 

Dorian chuckled at Chaol's expression before looking over at Evalin. "Rin is in the stables with Abraxos II," he said, dismissing her. 

Evalin saluted. "Thank you," she sung, before sauntering away. 

"Calm down, I just fed you," Rin snapped. "You're fat enough as it is." She hoisted up a bucket of water and set it down in front of her glorious beast. "Drink up, you foul thing." 

Evalin leaned against the opening of the huge stables her father built for her. A small smirk played at the corner of her lips as she watched her best friend chastise her Wyvern. Asterin turned around and froze when she saw Evalin. Asterin was absolutely beautiful. Her beauty rivaled Marion's. But if Evalin ever stood next to the both of them, nobody would even glance at her. 

She was wearing a red Crochan cloak, with the Adarlanian insignia on the back. A mixture of both her sires. Rin raised one groomed raven brow. Her hair was of the deepest black, but her eyes were gold. Well, from afar they looked gold. But if one got close, they would see that in her left eye, there was a small sliver of blue. Her skin was so pale, almost the color of snow. Although she had no iron teeth, she did have retractable iron nails that currently weren't out. 

"Lin!" Asterin ran to her, and they embraced each other. "I've been waiting for you, it's about time you got here, you filthy thing!" 

Evalin laughed. "I've missed you too." 

"Oh, come. I have so much to tell you." Rin wrapped an arm around Evalin's shoulders, towering over her. She guided her out of the stables, hissing at Abraxos II to stay put. Asterin had a scar across her cheek, though Evalin wasn't exactly sure where it came from. Nobody was. "Let's go get drunk and fill each other in on the last four months, yes?" 

Evalin laughed and nodded her head. "Yes." 

"Wait. Oh my god, Sam's here!" 

Evalin raised an eyebrow. "You've never been one to be excited to see _Sam_." 

"He's going to see Lane! Oh, we're going to miss the show we can get drunk later. Come on!" With that Rin dragged Evelin away. 

Evalin always hated walking up those dreaded stairs. But as they made it to the top floor, Rin completely skipped Lane's room and went to the next one, opening the door and yanking Evalin in. Then she ran to the wall that separated the two rooms and peeked through one of the holes. Evalin kneeled next to her friend and peeked through the other one. Celaena was alone, humming to herself while she worked, holding a magnifying glass up to a purple-colored powder. 

"I can't believe we beat Sam," Evalin whispered, so quietly that Lane wouldn't be able to hear her but Rin would if she strained. Rin opened her mouth to respond but then Lane's door opened. Silently. 

They both turned their attention back to the holes. Lane was surrounded by baubles and glasses full of liquids and _herbs_. So many herbs. She didn't hear as Sam crept in, shutting the door behind him. Evalin saw the bundle of flowers hidden behind his back. _That_ was why he was late.

Lane furrowed her brow but put her magnifying glass down before swiping all the powder into a cup and setting the cup back down. 

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered in her ear, peering over her head. 

Lane squeaked and whirled around, her face immediately contorting into a wide smile. 

"Sam!" She jumped up, wrapping her arms around him. He laughed and caught her with one arm, while her legs wrapped around his waist. Asterin's eyes widened, enjoying this. Clearly. Asterin and Celaena were very close. Evalin supposed he was close with Lane too, but not like Rin was. Rin and Lane grew up together, exploring the castle and causing their father's grief. 

Sam set her down on the counter and held the flowers between them. "I brought you something," he said softly. She looked down at the flowers and laughed, delighted. 

"You spend far too much money on flowers for me," she said, turning her head to look at a glass encasing a small purple flower. The same one Sam had given her when she was twelve. She had been so smart, she created a spell with the help of Rin's magic to keep it healthy and preserved forever. And she kept it in a glass on her desk. Where she could see it at all times. 

Celaena was beautiful. She had golden-brown eyes and wild curly brown hair that billowed about her. A scar made a crescent across her nose and cheeks, from when she ran away at fifteen. She had said she wanted to fight monsters. Turned out she did find a monster. She killed it, but she had a scar as a trophy. Yrene was bewildered, while Chaol was furious. Lane preferred sword fighting over healing sometimes, much to her father's dismay. As children, she wanted to practice with Sam and Vaughn every chance she got. And Evalin, when Evalin wasn't forced to practice her words. 

"What, so boys are allowed to be big dumb airheads?" she had snapped at her father. 

"No, Sam has finished with his lessons," her father would say. "Maybe if you didn't daydream all the time, you would be done too." Then he paused. "But yes, boys are airheads as well," he said with a small smile. She had burst into a fit of giggles at that. 

"And I will not stop," Sam said stubbornly. Lane turned her head to glare at him, but her glare immediately fell, replaced with a small blush on her cheeks. Sam was right between her legs, and her skirt had ridden up a bit. 

Rin shook Evalin by the shoulder, her grin widening. Evalin shook her off irritably. 

"I'm-I've missed you," Lane said, her voice barely more than a squeak. Sam nodded, but he wasn't listening to her. He was looking at her lips. Evalin had the sudden urge to throw a brick at his head. 

Then he leaned in and kissed her. Rin looked like she wanted to scream but Evalin clamped a hand over her friend's mouth. 

Lane gasped and pulled back. Sam blinked. 

"Sorry, I-" 

But then she was clinging to him, pulling him down so she could kiss him again. Although, her face had turned the color of a tomato. Sam's eyebrows raised and he braced his hands on the counter beside her. Rin looked at Evalin, who thought she was going to be sick. 

Lane suddenly pulled back, clearly panicking when Sam started kissing her neck. She quickly pushed him back and hopped off the counter. "Well my mother will be here soon so you should-go," she said, turning around so he couldn't see her face. Her eyes were wide, and the redness hadn't gone away. 

"I can stay if you want-"

"No it's okay!" she said quickly. "Go- sharpen your swords. Or whatever it is you do." 

Sam laughed. "Okay. I'll come back later, Lane, okay?" 

She nodded and jumped when he pressed his mouth to her bare neck before leaving. E

When Sam was a few floors below both Evalin and Rin collapsed on top of each other in a fit of laughter. Lane's head shot up, her gaze accusatory. "What? I'm going to kill the both of you! How _dare_ you-"

"That was the best thing I've seen in my twenty-one years of living!" Rin said loudly, before she rolled onto her stomach, her laughter overtaking her. 

"God, Lane look at your face!" Evalin snorted. 

"Shut up! Both of you! Not funny!" 

"It was pretty funny," Rin said, sitting up and wiping tears from her eyes. Lane scowled. 

Candor looked in the mirror at his bare chest, full of swirling white tattoos. And at the center of his chest. Where his amulet hung. He closed his hand around it and ripped it off with a groan, before putting it in his belt. As long as he had it on him it worked. But around his neck was too easy for someone to just take it. 

"Are we leaving or not?" Amyria asked, barging into his bedroom. Just like she had barged into his apartment ten minutes before. She paused, her gaze flickering over him for a second before disinterest filled her eyes. Candor quickly grabbed his tunic and threw it on. 

"Knock," he snapped. 

"Relax, I've seen plenty of men naked before," Amyria snapped back. "We have to go. It has to be done by sunrise." 

He only nodded, tucking his tunic into his belt and picking up his cloak from a nearby chair. He fastened it around his neck easily enough. He paused for a moment, furrowing his brows. 

"What?" Amyria asked. He looked up to meet her gaze and shook his head. "I'm sure Orion's fine, Candor." 

"Ailith's been looking for him for an hour now. I should be helping." 

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself. He's probably blowing off steam at a brothel. You should try it sometime," she said. Candor grimaced, earning a smile from Amyria. "Come on, you big baby. Let's go." 

He reluctantly followed her. 

An hour later, they sat on a rooftop, Amyria with her leg dangling over the edge, and Candor, his hood up and watching the tavern across the street. It had been quiet for quite some time, only the occasional boisterous laughter from a drunkard that walked by below. Amyria was sharpening one of her knives, leaning up against a chimney, the whisper of metal on metal singing through the air. 

"We have to go to the Winter Court next week," Amyria said absentmindedly. Candor hummed in response. "And then I'm going back to Summer Court for a while." At this, Candor looked up at her. She caught his look and shrugged. "I want to spend some time with my family." She paused. "Sorry." 

He wasn't sure exactly what she was apologizing for. Perhaps because Azriel was his only biological family that he was aware of. But that never mattered to him. His mother figure had been Morrigan for the most part growing up. But also Feyre, and occasionally Elain or Nesta. Nesta was more brutal, though, usually the one to lecture him. Amren, too, but not as much. She had lived in the Summer Court for most of his life. 

He was conflicted when he was twelve and Amren had sent her daughter to be trained with Azriel. She had to live with them, and she didn't treat him very well. Pulling pranks around the apartment, laughing at him every time he did something slightly amusing. But as they got older, they formed a friendship. And eventually, Candor started to look at Amyria differently. She never noticed. She was too busy playing mind games with her mother. 

Then one day she came to Candor, excited and with an idea. A partnership. It had been two years since they started it. Candor was nineteen, and Amyria eighteen. 

"You'll come back, though. Right?" he asked, his voice quiet. Amyria stopped sharpening her blade. 

"Of course. But you have to keep the business going. Just for a little while. You can do it without me, right?" She smiled at him, a genuine, honest smile. 

"Yeah," Candor whispered. "Easy." Then he looked away from her. "He's coming out." 

Amyria jumped up and sheathed her blade, before jumping down from the rooftop, Candor right beside her. They moved into an alleyway, into the shadows. A big, drunk male stumbled out of the tavern. He was huge. And their target. He walked past them, getting dangerously close. But then he turned and headed straight for their alley. 

Candor grabbed Amyria by the hip and backed her up against the wall, getting so close their bodies pressed up against each other, and he had to tuck his head over hers. His amulet burned in his pocket as he hid them. A moment passed. Two. 

"Candor?" Amyria said hesitantly. He looked down at her. She was smiling up at him with her full, peach lips. He froze. "We're going to lose him if we stay like this," she breathed. He blinked. 

"Sorry," he muttered, taking a step back. 

Amyria grinned, one of her bloodthirsty, competitive grins. "Race you there." 

And then she bolted. Candor grinned and chased after her. 

"So, your mother isn't here?" Evalin asked as they walked along the cobblestone streets of Rifthold. They had a few drinks and then bolted when people started to recognize the Princess of Adarlan and the Princess of Terrasen. 

"Nope. Back in the Wastes. She said she would come though. If only to rejoice with my father." Rin pointed her finger at the back of her throat and gagged. Evalin laughed, shaking her head. 

"Well, at least they're doing good. Even though they don't see each other a whole lot." 

"Yeah. It's pretty amazing," Rin agreed. "So... how was Marion?" 

Evalin sighed. "Pick up a quill, and write to her, Rin. Or better yet, go see her. You know she loves-"

" _Stop_ ," Rin said abruptly. Evalin shut her mouth. "I asked you a question. I expect you to answer it." Asterin's voice was laced with venom. 

"She's well," Evalin said honestly. Rin nodded. 

"Good." 

It was quiet for a couple of moments, only the sound of their boots against stone filling the space between them. 

"The anniversary was a few weeks ago," Rin said. "Are you okay?" 

Evalin tightened her jaw. "I'm fine." 

"You can talk to me you know." 

"I know," Evalin said hoarsely. "I just... I just miss him so much. You know? I mean... he was young. For a fae. He was so young. Younger than my father. Vaughn. After three years I'm still... I'm still asking how any of it's fair." 

Rin nodded. "Well, one day when the assassinations die down... when whoever is commanding them learns not to fuck around with our family, we'll go to Wendlyn. Okay? Just the two of us. Maybe we will bring Sam if he behaves." Evalin laughed. "It will be fun." 

"Yeah." Evalin nodded. "But Rin... listen, I know it's not my place. But Marion-"

"You're right it's not your place," Rin said tightly. Evalin stopped walking and stared at Asterin incredulously. 

"I'm trying to help you!" 

"Well stop. I'm sick of it," Rin snapped. 

"She misses you! And you miss her." 

"Evalin let it go," Rin warned. 

"I talked to you. I _opened_ up to you. You know I don't talk about him with anyone else and guess what? He's dead. Marion is alive and every time I try to talk to you about how you're being a pompous ass, you shut me out. You don't get to ask me about-"

"Then next time don't answer. Marion is _nothing_ to me and I'm sick of you trying to bring her up to me. You don't even like her. Let it go Evalin! Or so help me I will-" 

"You'll what?" Evalin spat. She got closer, and though she was much shorter than Rin, she felt tall. "Finish your sentence." 

Rin clenched her jaw and shook her head. 

"I was actually happy to see you too. Thanks." And with that Rin turned around and started stalking away. Evalin sighed through her nose and shook her head. It was still daylight, though the sun was beginning to set. 

Evalin set off for outside of Rifthold, towards Oakwald Forest. 

Orion's hands were shaking with the effort not to crush someone's skull. He had gone to the Night Court library, down into the cavernous pit where nobody could see him. Where, if he exploded, he couldn't hurt anybody. Bryaxis, the monster he heard stories about, no longer resided there. No, nobody had heard a thing from the creature in a very long time. Since the war. 

Now, he paced the darkness, sweating bullets, and itching to rip his skin off. 

_Release me_ _, Orion._

"No," he said firmly. "Go away. Go away." He ran his hands through his hair, going in circles. He wanted the voice to go away. The voice he had heard since he learned how to speak. He had so much power. Too much power. He couldn't hold it in. He was going to explode. 

"Stop!" he yelled, pounding against one of the cavernous walls, making a dent. 

_Release me._

"No. _GO AWAY,_ " he boomed. "Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone." 

He was so mad. There was so much rage, fueling his power. He was mad at Dolos. He was mad at his father. He was mad at Ailith and Candor. For looking away. For being ashamed. He was nothing to be ashamed of. He was their future high lord. One day they would bow down to _him_. One day... maybe there didn't have to be seven courts. Once he got the high lord powers, he would be the most powerful being in the world. He could take over. He could be _king_ of everything. 

_That's the magic talking._

"I know!" he yelled, pacing faster. His wings shimmered into existence, flaring out wide. They glowed in the darkness. His eyes were probably glowing. It was because of his mother. The dawn court's abilities. His eyes and wings glowed. He had too much power. He didn't want it. There wasn't enough of _him_ to control it all. He wasn't big enough. His breathing became heavier. 

He had been holding everything in for twenty-three years. He wasn't about to explode _now_. But he was. He was too angry. His emotions were everywhere. He was mad at Seph. How _dare_ she treat him like that? How dare she smile and play nice and try to be his _friend_ after breaking his heart. 

Orion covered his face with shaky hands. 

_Embrace the darkness._

"No," he breathed. 

"Orion?" Ailith. "Orion are you in here?" 

But her voice drowned into the background. A ringing replaced everything. His eyes widened. Suddenly he was cold. And then hot. And then a flare of light blinded him. Was that him? And then the darkness came. Everywhere. The darkness was darker than the darkness of the cavern. This was... something else. And it was his. 

He exploded. And released all of his power. And suddenly he was no longer in the cave under the library. He was falling in midair. The sun was setting. Ailith was gone. He left Prythian. 

Lilith screamed as a giant explosion shook the whole library. She ducked down, covering herself with her wings and arms. The shaking stopped after a couple of moments. The priestesses were trying to save the books, the bookshelves. But Ailith was staring at the giant pit. She lunged, jumping off the edge and spreading her wings wide. 

"Orion!" She dropped to the bottom, and then held out her hands, channeled silver flames to her hands, lighting the place up. She gasped. There was a crater in the cavern. Some rocks were black from fire, some covered in frost. And... wisps of darkness remained. "What the hell?" Orion was nowhere to be found. She stared at the scene in horror. He wasn't _there_. "Where did you go?" she whispered. 

Evalin muttered angrily to herself. "Pathetic. Why should I play matchmaker?" She shook her head, stepping over roots and swerving around branches. "Get over yourself." She scoffed. "Stupid-" 

Suddenly, a boom sounded, like a crack of thunder. Evalin froze. She frowned, turning around and looking up to the sky. The clouds were swirling, and... something was falling. 

"Is that... a giant bat?" she said aloud. Her eyes widened. That wasn't a _bat_. It was a _man_. And he was falling. His gigantic membranous wings were flaring around, fluttering, trying to catch himself. She didn't realize how close he was to her until he got closer to the ground. Evalin cursed. 

"Shit," she hissed before running away from him. He was going to land hard. She stopped running to turn back around and watch as he hit the ground with a loud _boom_. 

Evalin stood rigid, her eyes wide, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She unsheathed her blade. Slowly, so slowly, she walked toward the spot where he landed. She stopped a few feet away from him. He was a groaning heap of wings and hair, and... what the hell was he wearing. She had never seen that style of clothes before, granted, they were ripped up now. He let out another groan, and she took a step back. 

But then... he lifted his head, and his gaze met hers, and she froze. He was... beautiful. His eyes were the most brilliant color of violet. His hair stopped below his ears, dark as night. And, even from where she was standing she could see those freckles all over his cheeks and nose. They looked like stars. And he was _tall_. He wasn't standing, but she could tell. And she could see the muscles that rippled under his strange clothes-

She quickly snapped herself out of it, letting out a vicious snarl, and scrunching her face up animalistic-like. His eyes widened as she threw her blade with all her strength. He sat up and caught it, inches away from his face. He didn't even seem phased. Evalin frowned and glanced at his ears. 

"You're fae," she breathed. He raised his eyebrows as if that was obvious. But... she hadn't met a lot of other fae. 

She frowned, and unsheathed another dagger, getting ready to throw it again. 

"Hey, hey, wait-" He put his hands up but she threw it at his face anyway. He caught it again, flawlessly. 

This time, Evalin unsheathed her sword at her side, ready to fight him, though she couldn't see any weapons on him. 

"Wait, just calm down-" 

She swung at him, to which he ducked and whirled, his hand grasping air at his waist. He looked down and cursed. He had no weapons and it wasn't a fair fight but... he was a mysterious fae male who just... fell out of the sky. And he had bat wings. Evalin wasn't taking any chances. She twirled back and swung again. He feinted to the left, away from the blade. 

Quickly, so quickly, he came up from behind her and grabbed her wrist. His strength surprised her. He only had to squeeze and-

Evalin cried out before dropping her sword. She made to kick his feet out from under him but he blocked her kick, forcefully turning her around so she faced him and shoving her to the ground. He hovered above her, holding her wrists down on the mossy forest floor on either side of her head, frowning in irritation down at her. Evalin couldn't help but notice how flawless his skin was. 

_Stop that,_ she growled to herself. 

" _Stop attacking me,_ " he snapped. But then he froze, and his face softened. Evalin heaved beneath him, unsure and hesitant. "Wait..." His gaze was locked onto hers. "Your eyes," he breathed. Evalin forced herself to look calm. 

She forced herself to relax as she felt her canines elongate. He was distracted, looking down at her and scanning every inch of her face. Quickly, Evalin kneed him in the groin with all her strength. He let out a pained groan, and she opened her mouth, growling and bringing his head down, digging her teeth into his neck and biting down. Hard. He cried out, unlatching her and jumping back, away from her. 

She stood up quickly and wiped the blood dripping from her mouth. It tasted... foreign. 

"I'm going to skin you where you stand," she snarled. 

"Easy, love," he said breathlessly, holding a hand to his bleeding neck. "I'd like to see you try." 

Evalin held out both her hands, shooting him a deadly glare as blue icy flames appeared in her palms. The male's gaze turned... intrigued. 

"How peculiar," he said. 

His accent sounded strange. It was so smooth, like the night wind itself. It was beautiful. Just like everything else about him. 

Evalin threw a ball of icy flame at him, and he just-

He disappeared in a cloud of darkness. Evalin's eyes widened. She looked around, swirling, readying herself. 

"I don't want to hurt you!" 

She looked up to see him, standing on a tree branch, his neck completely healed. 

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back. 

"I _don't_ want to fight. I just want to talk. Do you know where I am?" he asked. Evalin frowned. 

"Are you mad?" 

" _Do you know where I am?_ " he repeated, more fiercely. 

"I should kill you." 

"I am not your enemy." 

"You're probably an assassin from Wendlyn. Come to take me out? I don't understand you lot. My mother is _the_ Queen of Terrasen. You know, the one who saved the world? Stop trying to hurt me and my family!" she yelled. 

But the male looked genuinely confused. He furrowed his brow, trying to process everything she just said. He looked away, up and over the trees. He glanced back down at her. "Where am I?" he asked again. 

Evalin had a pit in her stomach. She didn't know why, but... she did not think he was an assassin from Wendlyn. He fell from the _sky_. And his clothes... She knew she shouldn't trust him. She should run back to Rifthold, alert Dorian and Chaol that there was a strange male out wandering the woods. But she stayed put. 

"You're in Rifthold. Capital of Adarlan, a country in Erilea," she said calmly. 

He stared at her in silence for a minute. Two. Calculating. 

"Erilea?" he asked. 

"Yes." 

"If I jump down will you attack me again?" 

"Possibly," she said. He glared at her. She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me a reason to kill you, and I will hold off." 

He disappeared again in a cloud of darkness, only to reappear at the bottom of the tree. Evalin took a step back, surprised. She picked up her blades slowly and readied them. He ignored her. 

"Erilea," he repeated quietly, thinking. "How did I get here?" 

"You tell me," Evalin snapped. 

He looked at her again. 

"My name is Orion. I am Prince of the Night. My father is high lord of the Night Court," he said. 

Evalin lowered her blades. A little. 

"Prythian," he said further. 

"Are you mad?" she asked again. 

"Would you prefer it if I were mad, darling?" he asked. That earned him a sharp-toothed glare. 

"You fell from the sky," she said. And then she noticed his wings were gone. "Hey, where did your bat wings go?" The male-Orion raised an eyebrow. 

"Bat wings?" He chuckled, the sound skittering along her spine. And then his wings were back. It was getting dark, but his wings cast a pink glow around them. They emanated a pinkish-orange color, and they... they sparkled. It was like someone had smattered stars all along them. "They are _Illyrian_ wings," he clarified. 

"Never heard of it," she deadpanned. He hummed. 

"You're a violent little thing, aren't you?" 

" _Little_?" Evalin growled, raising her dagger. He put up his hands defensively. 

"I didn't mean anything by it." Then he paused. "I believe I created a tear in my world. And yours," he said calmly. 

Evalin's eyes widened. "You created a portal using wyrdmarks. Didn't you? You fool-"

"What are wyrdmarks?" he asked. 

"Wait... huh?" 

"I... had a temper tantrum," he said slowly. "It was my power that cast me out of my world. I believe that is what happened. I have never heard of such a place named Erilea. Though, one of my aunts knows a bit about these things..."

"You didn't use wyrdmarks... you're powerful enough to make your own portal?" Evalin asked a bit horrified. The male hesitated before nodding slowly. 

"I need to get back. But I am drained. And... that wasn't supposed to happen," he mused. 

"Well... good luck. And don't follow me. Or I _will_ kill you." She turned, ready to go alert Dorian of a possible threat. 

"Wait," he said. She froze. 

"Want me to point you in the direction of the nearest Tavern, bat boy?" she asked, turning back around. Tired, and confused. And in a little bit of denial. Did this male really just fall out of the sky or was she the one going mad? 

But his accent, the clothes. Even the way he looked was different. 

"You have fangs," he observed. 

She retracted her canines easily. 

"You don't?" she asked. He shook his head. 

"These wyrdmarks. Could they help me get home?" he asked, brushing back his long black hair. Evalin tried to ignore the flex of his bicep. 

"Possibly." 

"Are you educated in them?" 

"I'm not helping you if that's what you're asking. I don't do favors for strangers. Let alone people from different... worlds," she snapped. 

He cocked his head to the side, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He was _enjoying_ this. 

"And what would you like in return, _princess_?" 

"How did you know I'm a princess?" she asked, her tone accusatory. 

"You said your mother is a queen," he said. Oh. 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want anything from you," she said. 

He glanced at her blades, her sword. "You are a warrior," he said. Evalin's frown fell. "What if I told you I could get you an Illyrian blade? It is the strongest of blades in all of Prythian. Nobody else will have it _here_." 

Now _this_ intrigued her. She would have the only blade of its kind. Nobody else could have it here. 

"I want two daggers and a sword," she said. 

A wicked grin formed across his lips. "Deal." He stood up straighter, running his hands over his ruined tunic. She supposed it would be just as beautiful as the rest of him if it were in one piece. "What is your name, princess?" 

"Evalin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius," she said. He raised his eyebrows. "But just Evalin," she muttered. Then she cleared her throat. "You can teleport." 

"It's called winnowing," he said smoothly, almost as if he was showing something off. 

She looked him over. "Look, if we're going to do this, we need to get you cleaned up. And a backstory. I'll tell you on the way." 

"So I come from this country called Wendlyn," he said. Evalin nodded as they walked through the secret catacombs underneath the castle. "My father is the lord of a very small city, and I am here settling new trading routes." 

"Perfect," Evalin said. "Just say that if anyone asks. Also... what kind of name is Orion?" 

"The constellation. The hunter," he clarified. Evalin hummed. 

"Weird." 

"I was born in the City of Starlight I'm not sure what you expect. Besides, everyone calls me Rion." 

"That's even worse." 

"You're feisty," he purred, smirking. 

"Enough of that," she snapped. 

"Of what?" 

"You know what."

He chuckled darkly. 

Evalin ran up a flight of stairs after they took a turn and groaned as she pushed open the heavy opening to her bedroom. She peeked inside to make sure nobody was lurking. When it was clear her chambers were empty she walked in, waving Orion in before shutting the door with a gravelly thud. 

She then looked him over and bit her lip. "Damn it. I should have bought you some clothes in the city. My brother might notice if you wear some of his clothes." 

"Your brother?" Orion asked incredulously. 

"I have a twin," she said dismissively. He opened his mouth but she cut him off. "I'm going to go find something for you to wear. Use my bathing chamber and- try not to be seen." 

"Yes ma'am," he said, saluting her. She glared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes and turning away, opening her door. She yelped when she saw Asterin, fist raised and curled as if she was about to knock. Evalin spun around, but Orion was gone. Only small curls of darkness remained where he had been standing. She turned back around to face her friend. 

"You're jumpy... and dirty," she observed. Then she shook her head. "Lin, I came to apologize. Our quarrel was unnecessary and I hate to fight with you. We aren't children anymore and I may have been... a little overdramatic-"

"All is forgiven. I need a favor. Like, a huge one," Evalin said hurriedly. 

Rin straightened. "Anything." 

"There's this guy..." 

"You met a guy?" Rin asked excitedly. Evalin felt her ears turn red. Orion was listening, somewhere in her room. 

"Yes but... it's not what you think. He's the son of a lord from Wendlyn and-"

"Fae? Human?" 

"Fae but-"

"You met a _fae_ male? _Here?_ " Rin asked, leaning in with amazement. 

"Rin!" 

"Sorry, continue." 

"He's doing a favor for me, and... he's probably going to be around a lot. For a little while. I would rather not sneak him around twenty-four-seven so-" 

"Bring him to dinner. I will take care of the rest," Rin said swiftly. Evalin raised a brow. 

"But you don't even-" 

"I don't care whatever it is you're up to. But I know what you want. And I will take care of it, all you have to do is bring him to dinner. Got it?" 

Evalin nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thank you so much, Rin you have no idea how much this means-" 

"Don't worry about it. See you in an hour," Rin said, before disappearing hurriedly. 

Evalin frowned, slowly closing the door and turning around. She yelped, slamming back against the door. Orion was standing _right_ there. 

"Who was _that_?" he asked, his eyes wide and shining.

Evalin groaned. "Not a chance in hell, batboy. Don't think about it. Let's just go find you something to wear so I can get through this night and go to _bed._ "

She pushed off the door and sighed. 


	4. Cauldron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that in the last three chapters I have been calling the Daemati "Daemoni" that was such an amateur mistake, I apologize. Very disappointed in myself :/
> 
> Also I have a copy of A Court of Silver Flames but I won't read it until March because I have to get through some other stuff. Anyway, is it good???

"Where is the gemstone, Viktor?" Amyria asked, holding her knife up to the male's throat. 

"I don't know!" he yelled in her face for the fourth time. 

She glared at him before taking the butt of her knife and slamming it into his face. He would have fallen like a dead weight had Candor not been holding him up from behind. 

"Where is that gods damned gemstone?" she snapped, harsher than before. "If you tell me, we will let you go and you will never have to deal with any of this again." 

The oily large male stared at her defiantly for a moment before spitting at her feet. "I'm not telling you _shit_ ," he snapped. 

Amyria glanced up, her gaze connecting with Candor's. He was stone-faced. She let out a long sigh before standing up straight. "I'll give you one more chance to tell me before I walk away and leave you to _him_ ," she said, nodding towards Candor, towering behind the man. "And trust me. I won't be here to stop whatever sick and twisted shit he wants to do with you." 

She glanced at the male, waiting for an answer. He stayed silent. She shrugged. "All you," she said to Candor, before folding her hands low on her back and leaving the alley. 

"Wait. Wait, what are you doing?" she heard the man ask, his voice wavering. Amyria couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face as she listened to his screaming, walking slowly away and humming. 

"Well, I know where the gemstone is," Candor muttered, coming out of the shadows. Amyria had been waiting behind one of their favorite Taverns. The usual meeting spot. It had been almost two hours since she left him alone with Viktor. Almost two hours since she felt that horrible shudder that seemed to make its way through every nerve in her body. It was pure power. And everyone else in Velaris seemed to feel it because there had been some gasps, screams, and even a few people who fainted. Candor no doubt felt it as well. 

She raised her eyebrow at him. "All the way in the fucking Spring Court of all places. Some mountain." 

"Not our problem. Our task was to get the information and kill the target. I'll let our contact know. And-Viktor?" 

"Dead. I took care of the body." 

"Good," Amyria said, nodding. Then she paused. "Candor?" 

"I felt it," he said immediately. "It was Orion. I know it." 

Amyria nodded. "We need to find Mara. I have no doubt she's already on it. Do you think her father knows? He felt it, there's no doubt about that." 

"Of course he knows. But I don't think he's dying to let the public know their innocent prince has gone rogue." Candor leaned his head back against the brick of the building.

"We have to find Mara," Amyria repeated. Candor let out a sigh before nodding. He pushed off the building but Amyria grabbed his arm. He looked down at her. "Forgetting something?" He smirked before shaking his head and kneeling, bending his knees. Amyria hopped onto his back, letting his hands hook under her knees. "Onward!" she pointed. 

"Child," he muttered. 

"Don't be bitter," she shot back. 

"What the hell happened?" Mara snapped when she got to the library. 

Ailith was stone-faced. Her eyes were bloodshot. "He's gone," she said her voice shaky. 

"What do you _mean_ he's _gone_?" Mara snarled in her cousin's face. "Where did he winnow to?" 

"He didn't winnow," Ailith said hollowly. 

Mara raised an eyebrow, shooting Seph and Apollas a look. The three of them had been at the manor when they felt the tremor. Mara had watched as her father's eyes slowly widened, and her mother looked at him, her brow furrowed. They slipped out when the parents were distracted. Which, they were very distracted. One of the priestesses retrieved Mara due to Ailith's orders, so they came immediately. 

"Sorry we didn't come right away," Amyria's voice boomed suddenly. Candor was on her heels. "Clotho found us. We just got done with a mission. What happened? Where is he?" 

"That is what I'm trying to figure out," Mara snapped at Ailith. She flinched, bowing her head. 

Candor glared at Mara before going to Ailith's side. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. 

"We don't have time for this. Where is my brother, Ailith?" Mara yelled. Ailith pointed toward the pit in the center of the library, her face still buried in Candor's shoulder. 

Mara strode past them all, her wings flaring wide, hopping over the railing and jumping into the abyss. 

"Ailith," Seph said gently. "Take us down. Please." 

Ailith nodded, her face stone-faced once again. She took them down. By the time she brought Amyria down last, she was panting, doubling over and placing her hands on her knees.

Mara was staring at the wreckage with blank eyes. "Orion, what did you do?" she whispered.

"What the hell happened here?" Amyria asked, looking around with a frown.

"I know he was down here... I mean, I heard him. I could hear his breathing, his pacing. But by the time I got down here... he was gone. I don't think he winnowed away, I mean..."

"He was down here," Mara confirmed. She touched the rock where frost still covered it. It hadn't melted. Mara closed her eyes and gasped, taking her hand away. "Orion didn't winnow. He blew a fucking whole in our world." 

Orion slowly walked around the room, furrowing his brow at the furniture and paintings. Every once and a while he looked out the large windows to see the strange city. He was _bored_. And confused. And he had one hell of a headache. He was waiting for the girl with the silver hair to come back. Evalin. She was not a very happy person. He kept thinking she would run out of insults for him, but she never did. He had never even heard of some of the things she had called him in the span of five minutes. 

Suddenly the door opened and Orion was ready to winnow, but Evalin walked in, hefting a few bags. She kicked the door shut and looked up at him. She was a short little thing. Much shorter than the other girl he saw. The one with the golden eyes and raven hair. The _beautiful_ one. 

"I don't know your... measurements. But these should be fine," she said, avoiding eye contact with him as she set the bags down on a table. Rion smirked. 

"If you wanted to know my _measurements_ , you could have just asked. I would be more than happy to tell you. Or show you," he said. She clenched her jaw and glared at him. He chuckled, before walking over and pulling the first tunic out of a box. His smile fell. "I'm not wearing this." 

"I will force you into it if that's what you want," Evalin snapped. 

"That's _all_ I want," he said. She scoffed in disgust. "Your style is strange." 

"Trust me, it might look weird to you, but to anyone else you will look like the son of a lord." 

"I am the son of a lord."

"Different kind of lord. Not a _king_." 

"My father is not a king. He is a lord." 

"Isn't that the same thing?" Evalin asked incredulously. 

Orion stared at her blankly. "No." 

"Whatever." 

"What do your tattoos mean?" he asked, nodding toward her cheekbone and shoulder. She looked down before glancing away. 

"It is the Old Language. A language I'm sure your world does not have. Here, the fae used to speak the language. A very long time ago. My father is fluent in it. He... he did this to me," Evalin explained. 

"But what does it mean? Or _say_?"

"It tells a story. Of... a loss," she said quietly. 

Orion's eyes traveled along her tattoo for a few moments, before he nodded. He didn't ask about the loss. He could see the relief on Evalin's face. 

"What about your tattoos?" she asked. She could see them through the holes in his shirt. 

He looked down and tore the rest of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. Her eyes widened as she looked at his tattoos in amazement. "One half is from my time at the Illyrian camps. It's tradition. I'm supposed to have the design on both sides but... the other side is for my family," he said. Evalin shrugged. 

"Cool," she said. He stared at her incredulously. "What?" 

"Nothing," he murmured. 

But she desperately hoped he didn't see the small color that had crept into her cheeks. The urge to fidget and look _anywhere_ but him was so very strong. His arms and torso were pure and utter _muscle_. Only when he stretched those powerful, inked arms above his head, did she tear her eyes away. She glanced back at him, catching a glance of his sculpted torso, his abs trailing down, a small dark smudge starting at his navel, disappearing below his waistband. She didn't look directly at him again. 

"Go into the bathing chamber to change. We have about twenty minutes before we need to be at dinner. Rin is going to convince her father to let you stay in the castle so we can work together better. I know exactly where we need to start." 

Orion hummed his response before grabbing the clothes and leaving the room. Evalin crashed back onto her bed, exhausted. She closed her eyes, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She suddenly missed her father, even though it had only been a week since she had seen him. Her mother too, she supposed, grudgingly. 

She sat up when Orion came back. He looked disgusted. "They're too small." 

Evalin smiled. They did look a little tight. "They are meant for _human_ men. Not males," she said, biting back a laugh. She had got him a simple pair of trousers and tunic, the trousers plain brown, and the tunic a deep blue lined with white. 

"I noticed your friend was not fae," he said, cocking his head to the side. 

"The only fae here are my brother and me. My uncle is demi-fae, so he does not have pointed ears." 

"Where are all the fae?" he asked. 

"Not here. A lot of humans reside here. Most of the fae reside in Wendlyn. A continent away from here. We have fae in Terrasen, where I am from. But they do not like civilization. They like to be left alone," Evalin explained. 

"How strange," Orion mused. "We used to have a wall, separating the human realm from Prythian, but that was before I was born. The wall fell, and now humans come and go as they please." He looked distant, and bored with the conversation. "It is illegal in some courts to murder humans." 

"Some?" Evalin asked. 

Orion met her gaze. "Some," he repeated. 

"What are your abilities?" Evalin asked abruptly. 

"That's rude to ask." 

"I don't care. I've never met a fae who could teleport, except my-" She froze, her skin paling. She suddenly looked ill. "Anyway," she said softly. 

"I can do a lot of things," he said smoothly. "I can get inside your head. If I wanted to. Except... your shields are strong. How peculiar. I suspect not many fae can get into the heads of others here and yet... you have shields." 

"What are you talking about?" Evalin asked, aghast. 

"My father is a Daemati," Orion said, his eyes shining. "So am I." 

"What's a Daemati?" 

"Daemati's come from the Night Court mostly. They can get inside heads. Destroy them. Control them. Read thoughts. I must admit my sister is better than it than I am. But I can still do it quite well." 

Evalin felt a pit form in her stomach. Had he been reading her mind this whole time? 

"Don't worry. I haven't gotten in your head. Like I said, your shields are strong." 

"I don't believe you," she snapped. 

He smirked. "No? Let down your shield. I will tell you your deepest desires." 

"No way in hell." 

"Alright. Give me just a moment." 

"Wait!" 

But he had stilled. His face relaxed slightly. Evelin's eyes widened. He was joking. He couldn't possibly get into her _head_. Nobody was that powerful. 

_Orion looked up at her massive shield. It was made of icy blue flames. A wall of flames. He reached out his hand but hissed when the flames made contact with his skin. It was so cold, it burned._

Evalin didn't feel anything. Was he in her head? Was she supposed to feel something? 

"Orion?" 

"Give me a minute," he muttered, his brows lowered. Then he raised them and blinked at her. "Who's Fenrys?" 

She gasped sharply. "Get out of my head!" she almost screamed, turning away from him and closing her eyes. Rage threatened to brim over. 

"I'm out," he said simply. "Who is he?" 

"Nobody. Just shut up before I rip your throat out," she snapped, turning her head slightly. She took a deep breath before turning back around. "Ground rules. No getting into any heads while you are here. If I find out you've been in _my_ head or any of my family's heads, I promise I will kill you." 

Orion looked amused. Evalin knew killing him would probably be hard. She wasn't even sure of the full extent of his strength or powers yet, but... he was a very different fae from her. A powerful one. Of course, she would never admit any of this out loud. 

"Alright," he said with a nod. "But only if you call me Rion." 

"Whatever," she spat. "I still don't trust you, by the way. So I need you to stay in my sight at all times. Until tonight. Hopefully, Asterin's plan works because you are _not_ staying in here and I'm not giving you any of _my_ money for an inn." 

"Aren't you a princess?" 

"Yes. A princess with priorities," she shot back. 

He grinned at that. "Fair." 

"We should tell the high lord," Ailith declared. 

Mara did not like that at all. " _Nobody_ tells my father," she snapped, glaring at all of them. 

"Why the hell not?" Ailith asked. 

"Because it will just make everything ten times worse. Just... let my parents think he ran away." 

"And the ripple we all felt?" Candor asked, speaking for the first time since getting to the library. 

"Let him think what he wants. But we cannot let him see what happened here," Mara said stubbornly. " _Especially_ my mother." 

"Seriously, _why_ can't we just let them deal with it, Mara?" Apollas snapped. 

"Because," she said slowly. "I'm going to go get him and if my father knows then he will not let me go. He will do anything he can to stop me. And I _will_ find a way to get my brother. Without them getting in the way." 

"You're mad," Apollas muttered. 

Seph and Amyria exchanged a look. 

"And how... exactly are you going to achieve this?" Amyria asked quietly. 

"Easy. I'm going to use the cauldron," Mara said as if talking about the weather. 

The whole cavern went dead silent. 

"You can't use the cauldron for that," Seph said softly. 

"Of course I can," Mara said with a cruel laugh. "What do you suggest? I leave my brother to die?" 

"He could already be dead," Amyria said, earning a look from Candor. She shrugged. 

"He's not. I can _feel_ him," Mara said. Apollas blinked at her as if she had gone mad. 

"Nobody knows where the cauldron is anyway," Seph said. "The high lords put it somewhere where nobody would find it. And they won't tell us where. Unless you tell your father that Rion is gone." 

"Even then he won't tell me," Mara said. "And though I am a very powerful Daemati, I cannot get into my father's head. Or yours." Mara nodded to Seph. "But there is a man whose head I _can_ get into. A man... who most-likely knows where the cauldron is." 

"Who?" Apollas asked. 

Mara looked directly at him, a small smile playing in the corner of her lips. All the color drained from Apollas's face. He began to shake his head. "No." 

"Yes." 

"No! He doesn't know!" 

"Of course he does, he was there when they found the damned thing." 

"Mara please," Apollas almost pleaded. 

"Apollas, take this lightly, but your father is the weakest person who knows where it is. I can get into his head." 

"He doesn't know!" 

Mara clicked her tongue, annoyance playing on her face. 

"Mara, you're being unfair. Tell your father." Candor paused. "Unless you have your agenda. And this would help _your_ cause." 

Mara's face gave away nothing. She only looked at Candor, a manipulative smile placed on her face. "Oh, Candor. I only wish to get my big brother back." 

This was the problem with Candor. He was almost immune to Mara's manipulation. Almost. There were a couple of times she got what she wanted through him. But for the most part, he saw right through her. Mara _always_ thought of him as a problem. A threat. She stared at him. He stared back. 

She remembered when she was sixteen, and Orion was nineteen. She would sneak around the manor, trying to find a way out without her father or mother noticing. Candor would be the one to catch her. Of course. Candor, only seventeen and already the most irritating person in her life. 

"What are you doing?" he had asked. 

"Oh, mother told me to go fetch some more milk. Anyway..." She had tried to stride right past him, but he only moved in her way. 

"Your mother isn't here and aren't you on house arrest?" 

Ah, _that_. It was ridiculous. Her father had caught her slumming it in the Court of Nightmares with a few friends. He had been furious, and for what? He said she wasn't allowed to go anywhere for the next two weeks. It was ridiculous. 

"When you come of age you can do anything you want," he said simply. She had scowled at him. 

"You should keep your business in your own family, Candor. Your psychopath of a father could use your help," Mara snapped, losing her mask. She tried to move past him again but he grabbed her arm, so tightly she winced. 

Then he leaned down so his face was level with hers, a few inches away. 

" _Do not_ ," he said tightly. "Talk about my father. Or I will make sure you _never_ get to step foot anywhere else ever again. Got it?" 

Candor didn't scare her. If she was being honest... nothing scared her. She could stand in front of Bryaxis, and the poor thing would stare at Mara in confusion. Not that Bryaxis had a face. It was a cluster of shadows. She only assumed it was confusion because afterwords the thing said, "child... you have no fears. That's not possible." 

Maybe because she felt so fucking numb all the time. It was sad. Two weeks before, a suitor had actually _proposed_ to her. It was at Starfall. Mara stared at him in confusion. 

"Why would I ever marry you?" she had asked. 

Cassian, her uncle, who had been nearby had choked on his drink and fought the laughter that Mara assumed was bubbling up. He laughed at _everything_ she did. She couldn't tell if her uncle was afraid of her, or if he was genuinely worried for her. It was him she told about her experience with Bryaxis. He didn't show his face to her for three days afterward. 

Mara was _damaged_. 

"Fine," she said to Candor. "I will not speak about your psychopath of a father again." 

His jaw clenched, but he let her go. He let her sneak out. 

Mara supposed she cared about Azriel. She considered him another uncle. Though, it was hard. She didn't know what _caring_ was by definition. She cared about her parents. Orion. When she was little and Orion told their parents he loved them before leaving the manor, Mara would cock her head at the word. Then she would catch her mother staring at her, looking as if she saw a ghost. Her mother often looked at her like that. When she tried to talk to Mara about boys, and Mara became emotionless, she gave her that look. One night she even heard her talking to her father about it. 

"She's fine, Feyre," her father had said. Almost... insistently. Mara had been sitting on the stairwell, only thirteen. 

"She doesn't show any interest in _anything_." 

"She likes to read those books Nesta gives her," her father reasoned. "And she has asked you to teach her to paint time and time again."

This was true. Mara wanted to learn the magic that came to life in her mother's paintings. Recently, she had gone with Feyre to her studio, and they had painted together, her mother telling her what brushes worked for different areas of the painting, where to hold them. 

"Yes, I know," her mother said. "But... do you see the way she looks at everyone? At _me_?" 

"Feyre she loves you very much." 

There's that _word_ again. Love. 

"It's that darkness you and Azriel _allowed_ her to have. If you had never taught her how to develop them... If you two had never taught her how to _control_ that awful-"

"Then it would have still been there," Rhys said calmly, his voice rising only slightly. "Buried. And it would have come out one day one way or another. Feyre, she is just a little girl. Maybe a little... confused." 

Mara had heard enough. Their words didn't hurt her. She still felt numb. But she knew they were _supposed_ to hurt her. She went up to her room and held out her hands. Wisps of darkness appeared. It was true, Azriel and her father taught her how to develop her darkness. She was so much better at it than Orion. Orion hid from the darkness. She embraced it. 

The _darkness_ was who she was. She couldn't help but smile at it. '

Now, Candor was the first to break her stare. 

"If you won't help me, fine," she said, looking them each in the face. "But I am doing this. With or without your help. Just keep it to yourselves. I'll be sure to tell Orion you all were too cowardly to help him when I see him." 

They all stared at her, and then glanced at each other. 

Amyria rolled her eyes. "Of course I'll help you, Mara." 

Mara rather liked Amyria. Or she thought she did. Amyria was the only one of them to catch a _suriel_. She never told anyone how she did it. And... she never told anyone what she asked it. But she had locked herself in her chambers for a week afterward. Not even Candor was able to coax her out. When she came out, she pretended nothing had happened. Back to her spunky, sarcastic, care-free self. 

Amyria glanced at her friends. Seph and Apollas. Apollas was glaring at Mara. "Come on guys, this is our _friend_. I for sure don't want to face Rion's wrath when he finds out you guys didn't want to bring him back." 

It was a ridiculous thing to say. Orion would never get mad at any of them for that. But it was enough, anyway. Seph nodded. 

"Of course. I'm sorry. Of course," she breathed. She sounded guilty, and there was a small blush on her cheeks. "I'll help."

"Yeah. Whatever," Apollas said, crossing his arms. Mara raised an eyebrow at Candor. He was staring at Amyria. 

"I go where she goes," he said simply. Then he paused. "And for Rion. Not you." 

Mara rolled her eyes, but then everyone was looking at Ailith. She blinked. 

"What? I was always with Mara," she said softly. Then she looked away from them all. "Rion's my best friend," she whispered. 

"Great," Mara said boldly. Then a wicked smile crossed her face. They didn't like that. "Let's go get that filthy tub, shall we?" 

"I don't trust her. She's mad," Candor said.

"She's not mad," Amyria said, giving him a look. "She just... she's different. And I'm pretty sure the only person on this earth she has an actual emotional connection to is Orion. If anything, we should be desperate to get him back just for the sole reason of _Mara._ I'm afraid to see how she will be without him around." 

Candor was quiet for a moment. Amyria craned her neck to look up at his face. 

"What is your deal with her anyway? It's always a war with you two." 

He didn't say anything, and Amyria thought he wasn't going to answer her at first. 

"Something happened. With my dad and her. I don't even think Orion knows," Candor said quietly. They were walking along the Sidra, passing glittering restaurants and boisterous laughter. 

"What happened?" Amyria asked. 

"I don't know. Only Mara, my father, and her parents know. I just know it was bad." He paused. "When I was eight, there was a time when Mara went to the court of nightmares. She was seven. My father was there and... he was supposed to be watching her. I don't know what happened but that night Mor was watching me, and when he came home, he looked so sick. I've never seen him like that." 

Candor stopped and looked at Amyria. "That was the night Mara changed. You remember her when we were younger, don't you? You're the same age as her. She used to seem..." 

"Like a little girl?" Amyria asked. She continued before he could continue. "People grow up, Candor. Mara just happened to grow up a cold bitch. I can't remember that far back, but I remember Mara always seeming... not all there. That's just who she is." 

Amyria pushed past him, continuing along the river. 

"I think we should find another way," Candor muttered. 

"Hm?"

"We can't steal the cauldron. That's a war crime." 

"Since when are you a stickler to the rules?" 

"Since breaking the rules meant committing war crimes." 

"Candor-" Amyria quieted when he stepped in her path. His eyes locked onto hers. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your best friend is gone. What are we supposed to do? Leave him? Trust me, I don't care about _Orion_. I'm doing this for _you_. That self-absorbed prince can rot in the depths for all I care. I thought _you_ and Mara cared. But hey, if you want to just forget about him, leave it to the Mother to take care of..." Amyria shrugged. Candor had cast a faraway look now. Amyria's tone was growing colder by the second. "I'm going to go collect our reward now. If you follow me I _will_ hurt you. And _never_ step in my way again. _Ever_. Got it?" 

He was still for a moment before he nodded silently. Amyria stepped around him and walked away. He didn't follow her. 

Rin peeked around the corner, looking down the hall. Her raven hair fell over one shoulder, curtaining half her face. She then hopped out into the open, folding her hands behind her back. 

"What are you doing?" a deep voice asked from behind her. 

She whirled around, her iron nails shooting out in one hand. Rhoe raised a brow. 

"I knew you were there," she said abruptly. 

"Mhm, sure," Rhoe said, shaking his head. "What are you sneaking around for?" 

"I'm avoiding a certain fae bastard with blonde hair and the most glorious green eyes you have ever seen," Rin said, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead as if she might faint. A small smirk played at the corner of Rhoe's mouth. "Where have you been? I would think you would stick out like a sour thumb, being the giant you are, and yet, this is the first time I'm seeing you since your arrival." 

"I've been busy." 

"Ah. More secrets from Rhoe Ashryver. Shocker." 

"And you don't have secrets of your own, Asterin?" 

"Of course not. I'm an open book," Rin said, skipping around him playfully before stopping in front of him. 

"You're infuriating," he grumbled. 

"You _love_ me," Rin argued. Then she paused, cocking her head to the side. Rhoe heard it too. "Well, I hate to interrupt this oh so interesting conversation but..." 

"Mhm," Rhoe hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Later!" Rin said, flashing Rhoe a set of gleaming white teeth before she held out one iron-tipped hand and released a giant cloud of frost out around her. 

Rhoe jumped back, blinking in surprise when he found that Rin was gone, the frost cloud receding. 

"Rhoe?" Sam was across the hall, a frown on his face. "What-"

"Don't ask," Rhoe snapped. "damn lunatic," he muttered, shaking his head in the direction he assumed Rin went.

He genuinely thought she was mad at times, afraid to see the way her mind worked. She could be bloodthirsty like her mother at times, but mostly she was just... perky and mischievous. Rhoe often wondered if it was all the magic messing with her head. The magic she got from her father. 

"Sorry that took so long," Evalin called from behind Orion. He had been staring at the wallpaper on the walls in the foyer of her chambers, furrowing his brows. He hadn't seen the style before, but then again, that had been _expected_. 

He turned around to face her. She was looking in a vanity mirror, dragging her fingers through her hair that seemed to glow in the light shining through the window. The sun was setting, casting her skin a pale shine, and her hair a silver glow. 

Before, she was covered in dirt, her hair a mess, and her clothes dirty. She was wearing the exact same thing, except her clothes were now clean. Orion guessed it was an identical outfit, but different from the one she had on earlier. It was green, buttoned-up, and strapless, making a heart low on her chest. He hadn't been _looking_ at her before. Maybe it was her attitude or the disarray she was in. But he was taking her in now. She wasn't like the girl named _Rin,_ in any way. Rin had been tall and thin. Evalin was short, and with her skin-tight trousers and tunic, Rion could easily make out her curves. And her breasts, the apexes visible just above the fabric of her tunic. He found himself noticing just how large they were, and the moment he blinked, her gaze met his. Her lip curled and he quickly looked away before she could flay him. 

"If you're done noticing how incredibly gorgeous I am, we can go," Evalin said. Orion found all amusement he had displayed all evening gone. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she winked. _She_ winked at _him_. The gesture made him angry for some reason. "Come along, _prince_ ," she hissed, walking straight passed him.

He followed her out the door grudgingly. 

"Tell me again," she said, lowly. They were just a few feet away from the great hall. 

"I've told you about a thousand times by now," he growled. 

She ignored him. Quickly, too quickly for him to react, she grabbed his arm, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. Before he could inquire, she was yanking him into the great hall. Her jaw was set. Like she was ripping off a bandage. He raised his eyebrow at her, but then he noticed exactly what room she had pulled him into. He had to let his eyes adjust for a moment. 

There were eight of them. Orion immediately knew which one was the king. The one at the head, with his head thrown back, caught in a laugh, the joke coming from a second man seated next to him, with shoulder-length blonde hair and eyes that eerily looked identical to Evalin's. They were related. Somehow. She hadn't given him much if _any_ details about herself or what to expect. Just what to say if asked his backstory. 

It wasn't hard to peg Evalin's _twin_. It was the blonde one that looked suspiciously like the man seated next to the king. Except with shorter hair, and pine green eyes. He had been smiling at a lovely woman next to him with a mane of curly brown locks, but as soon as they stepped into the room, his head shot up and his gaze met Orion's. If the male didn't look like Evalin's relative, he still would have known he was her twin. Because he shot up from his seat and set a deadly glare on Orion as if he caught his target. Orion knew because he found himself shooting others that same look, on behalf of his sister. Or even Ailith. 

The older man-male if this was the demi-fae Evalin had mentioned, followed Sam's gaze, and his smile faded. Then the king. Then Rin glanced over and a maddening smile crossed her red lips, her golden eyes widening. And then a man on the other side of the king with shaggy brown hair and a clean-shaven stubble followed their gazes. 

_Everyone was staring at Orion._ As if he was a threat. 

Orion was about to shoot Evalin an ill-mannered comment about how _bad_ of an idea this was, but when he looked over at her, she was grinning. A blood-thirsty, shit-eating grin. She was _enjoying_ this. She had rebellious written all over her at that moment. 

"Hello," she called to her family. She guided Orion over to the table, getting a little too close to him. Under any other circumstances, he would have welcomed the act. And enjoyed it. But he was getting death-stares from a lot of individuals at the moment. 

"Evalin," the older blonde said with deadly calm. 

"Oh, he _is_ lovely, Evalin!" Rin said from her seat, clapping her hands together. 

Across from her, a hulking figure of a man with long black locks that were tied back, and- Orion did a double-take. He had the same eyes as Evalin and the male. He shot Rin a bewildered look, with a raised eyebrow. 

" _What Asterin_?" The king asked. But he didn't look protective or wary like the others. He had a hint of amusement in his eyes. And-

Orion realized he had the same hair as Rin. The same dimples. The wicked gleam in his eyes. Orion's head was spinning. He was going to surely give Evalin the telling-to of her life later, for not preparing him better. But she didn't look worried in the slightest. Perhaps she thought it more realistic if he went in unprepared and unaware. 

"Oh, uncle," Evalin said, batting her eyelashes uncharacteristically. " _Uncles_ ," she emphasized. "My apologies. This is my friend, Orion. I met him at the docks earlier today and... well I wanted you all to meet him. Right, Rion?" she looked at Orion, grinning at him. He hesitated, before his face split into a grin of his own. 

" _Rion_?" her twin asked, practically gritting the word out. He looked ready to explode. Orion shot him a wider grin, fueling his growing rage that was so obviously building up. Of course he was _angry_ and not _guarded_ like the rest. If anything, Rion pitied the man. He couldn't imagine growing up surrounded by _humans_ only for a male to saunter onto his territory one day. He wasn't used to being around other males. Not foreign ones. 

"Yes," Evalin said, looking as if she was stuck in a dream. " _Rion,_ " she purred. 

"He's a fae," the older one spat. The one with the brown hair and stubble. A woman was sitting next to him, with golden light brown skin, and matching golden curls. She looked about his age, and similar to the girl sitting next to Evalin's twin. She was observing Orion thoughtfully. 

The king was hiding a smirk behind his fist that Orion could see. Amusement danced in his clear blue eyes. _Clearly,_ Orion wasn't a threat to him. But in the midst of that amusement, there was something wary. Orion furrowed his brows at him. He was human but... Orion could feel the power he had, _sitting_ in the air between them. It was suffocating. It felt creepily similar to what his father's power felt like when he got angry or wanted to send a message. 

"Oh," Evalin said. "Why, yes. He is." 

Then he pinched the inside of his elbow. He cleared his throat. "Your majesty," he said, angling his approach at the man sitting at the end of the table-Rin's father. But he didn't bow. He didn't lower his head. Evalin looked like she wanted to throttle him all of a sudden, but she never told him he had to bow. This observation only fueled the king's amusement. "I come from Wendlyn," he said softly. "I come here settling new trading routes from my father. But at the docks... I encountered this lovely young female," he said, glancing at Evalin, who had dropped her act. She was no longer batting her eyelashes at him. She was shooting daggers at him. 

"You brought a male from _Wendlyn_ here?" her twin asked, choking on his words and staring at his sister in horror. Oh, she was getting into it with _him_ later as well. Rin clapped in joy as if she was at the circus. 

" _Evalin_ ," her Uncle said calmly yet again. Although he didn't look like he wanted to finish his sentence in front of the new mysterious male. 

" _Well,_ " the king said, clapping his hands together and not giving him the chance to anyway. "I don't know why you all are being so brash. Sit down Orion," he said, looking at him with lowered brows. 

But Orion knew a challenge when he saw one. This was a test. He glanced at Evalin who now looked bored and irritated. Challenge accepted. 


	5. Wars And All

Mara sat at her vanity, looking into her own eyes. One a bright icy blue. The other a deep violet. She grew up with her parents telling her the story of when they first saw her eyes over and over again. When she was first born, her eyes were closed. But days later, Feyre had noticed. And she said it was the most glorious thing she had ever seen. Her father said she was an angel. She rolled her eyes every time he said so. And her wings... 

Orion's wings were very similar to hers. Well, almost. Her lips curled into a smirk. Hers were bigger. 

Her wings glowed. So did his. His were a bit different, though. While Rion's wings emanated a pinkish glow, with flecks of white little sparkles over them, imitating stars, Mara's wings were the sun. They glowed brightly in the dark, casting a golden glow around her, like a halo. 

Rhysand called her his little firefly. The nickname became more embarrassing as she grew up. But still, even twenty years old, he sometimes called her his firefly. Mara felt a warmth in her chest each time, despite her snapping at him to _stop_ treating her like a child each time. He would just smile, and cast his eyes down with a small shake of his head. 

His little _firefly_. 

Mara sometimes wished she showed more love and affection towards him. Towards all of them. But she couldn't bring herself too. She hadn't. Not since she was seven years old. Not since... 

She shut her eyes the moment her thoughts trailed toward the Court of Nightmares, and Azriel. Candor. She scowled at his name entering his mind. He would never understand. He could never understand that his _father_ , the man who had sired him, had ruined her life. It was _his_ fault that her innocence had been taken away at such a young age. It was _his_ fault that she had a hard time showing emotions. _Feeling._ No. She made sure her emotions would never get in the way that night. She did what she had to do. 

"Mara?" a soft, raspy feminine voice said from behind her. 

Mara opened her eyes and looked in the mirror, at Ailith lingering by the door. Her _friend_. Probably her closest friend. Ailith had been upset when Mara decided to leave to go with the priestesses. But Mara promised to come back. She remembered embracing Ailith before departing. 

Now, Ailith was avoiding looking at her. Her short, shoulder-length brown hair cast a curtain around her face, hiding her strong cheekbones. Her eyes were downcast, hiding those breathtaking Archeron eyes that Mara only half had. 

Mara stood, and turned around. 

"Breakfast is ready. Lucien's here." She whispered the last part. Mara didn't blame her. 

Lucien was Ailith's uncle. He was Mara's uncle too. And she cared for the man. Mara had vivid memories of her redhead uncle chasing her through Elain's gardens when she was just a toddler, used to running away and getting on her feet every chance she got. She would squeal when Lucien caught her, swooping her up and grinning in triumph that he had caught her. She sat on his lap and fell asleep to him telling her stories of his travels. Lucien travelled a _lot_. Though his estate was in the Day Court with Elain and Apollas, they often came to the Night Court. And Lucien was always away. In the mortal lands, or on The Continent. 

She didn't want to get into his head if she was being quite honest. She didn't want to get into _anyone's_ head that was in her family. But she sure as hell couldn't get into her father's head. Not her mother's, not Cassian's, or... she refused to get into Azriel's head, though she wasn't sure if she _could_. She was sad to say Lucien was the easiest. The weakest. And he most-likely knew where that damned cauldron was. 

"Ailith," Mara said softly. 

Her oldest friend met her eyes. "Yes?" 

"I'm sorry. I should not have treated you the way I did last night. You were... upset. And I was harsh." Mara nodded as if satisfied with herself. She had a hard time understanding other's feelings often. 

She had a friend when she was fifteen. His name was Zander. He had been trying to tell her something... and she had completely taken it the wrong way. Long story short, he had wanted to tell her he had feelings for _her_. She had blinked at him and never responded. Because she just didn't _understand_. He never spoke to her again after that. She never reached out. 

Ailith smiled softly. "Well, it's alright. You were..." She paused. What was she going to say? Upset? Perhaps she realized that wasn't the right word. "You handled it well," Ailith finally settled with. 

Mara found her smiling back. Ailith reached out her hand, and Mara took it. "We will get him back, cousin," Mara said in her softest tone. One she didn't use often. Ailith's smile grew into a grin that often reminded Mara far too much of Cassian. 

"I know," she said, her tone sounding somewhat rebellious. 

Mara laughed but froze. She had that warm feeling in her chest. But deep, deep in the dark corners of her mind, she felt it. She felt a different part of herself. Banging on a wall in her mind. A walled-off part of her mind. That Mara was demanding she be let out. No. She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "Shall we?" Without another word she walked past her cousin and strode out the door. 

When they got to the dining part of Mara's family estate, only a few sat at the table. Lucien, Apollas, Elain, and _Varion_. Mara couldn't remember seeing Varion at the dinner the night before, but she offered him a friendly smile anyway. Lucien held Elain's hand in his absentmindedly, but he looked up when Mara and Ailith made an appearance. 

"Where is everyone?" Mara asked politely. 

"They're... speaking in the study, dear," Elain said softly. Mara and Ailith exchanged looks. 

"Which one?" 

"Your father's." 

_Shit._ That was bad. 

Mara turned, even knowing the oak doors were spelled against eavesdropping. But right as she approached the doors, they burst open. 

"I don't care!" her mother exploded. Mara's eyes widened. _That_ wasn't like her. "You find him. Or _I_ will," she growled, whirling back around to face Azriel, who towered over her. Mara could tell Ailith suddenly wanted to disappear, but she didn't hide. 

"Feyre," her father said in a soothing voice. 

"He wouldn't just _run away_. I think I would know my son. We _all_ felt that. So don't you _dare_ tell me he went to the Summer Court, or... or the Mother knows where!" Feyre snapped at all of them. 

Mara had never seen her mother like that. Her aunt, Nesta, straight-backed as always with her hands folded behind her back and her chin held high, cleared her throat. 

"Sister, may I remind you that your son is not... the most orderly of sorts? He does have a record of disobeying orders, correct?" she asked. Mara shot Ailith a look, who looked at her mother like a deer caught in front of an arrow. 

" _You_ ," Feyre growled at her sister. 

A small smile crept onto Rhys's lips, as if _that_ was a fight he wouldn't mind happening. But Cassian had other plans. 

"Nesta," he warned softly. "Feyre, I believe you." 

" _What_?" Nesta asked ludicrously, glaring at her husband. 

Mara made a loud clicking sound with her tongue, even though she saw her father glance at her a good amount of times. Feyre glanced at her and then deflated slightly. 

"You were discussing Orion without me?" she asked. 

"Your brother is not your concern, Mara," Rhys said softly, but firmly. 

"And he is yours?" Mara countered. 

Ailith was watching her now, as if _she_ had the abilities to enter one's mind. She knew what Mara was doing. Steering them in a different direction. After all, that _was_ the princess's specialty. 

"Father," she said softly. "It is to my knowledge that Orion is a grown man. If he has run away, and," Mara glanced at her mother, "I believe he has. Then that is that. He will come back when he is ready. My brother is not missing. I would know it if he was." 

Her mother held her hand to her chest now, her eyes downcast and her shoulders hunched slightly. Mara felt an ache deep inside her, to see her mother in such conditions. But she pushed the feeling away as if swatting a mosquito away. Ailith was still staring at her. Her cousin had admitted time and time before how it amazed her that Mara could lie so easily. How she could... manipulate a situation so easily. 

"There," Nesta said, smiling at Mara with pride. "That settles that, yeah?" 

But her father was staring at her, unblinking. This was the challenge. Rhysand. How did you manipulate someone who created the definition? How did you lie to someone who spent half a century lying and scheming himself? Her father was _old_. And this was the trickiest part. Don't let him see she was _lying_. She double-checked that her shields were locked up tight. 

"Azriel," he said, without taking his eyes off his daughter. Azriel, who looked deflated ever since Feyre jabbed a finger at him and demanded he find Orion, shot ram-rod straight, looking to Rhysand with intense concentration. "Inform the other high lords that my _son_ has decided to depart from the Night Court. If they see or hear of any sign of him in their court... they are to let me know. But not engage." 

"Yes, of course," Azriel said immediately. 

Rhysand was still staring at Mara. 

Feyre gave Rhys a hurt, wounded look. That immediately got him to look away from Mara and to her. His hardened, cold expression fell. "Feyre-" 

But she had already strode up the stairs. A few seconds later, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed through the estate. Rhys cursed under his breath, before looking to Azriel. "Get it done," he said firmly. Azriel only nodded. Then, Rhys shot Mara one last look of warning, whatever that look meant, before he trudged up the stairs after his high lady. 

"Well, maybe if you kept your nephew under control, that reckless male would still be here," Nesta said, looking past Mara. Mara realized Lucien was standing there, in the doorway. 

Her words did not affect Lucien. Mara knew he dealt with her jabs since before she was born. Since the mating bond with her aunt. He just shot Nesta a cold glare. 

"Always a pleasure, Nes," he muttered, before walking back into the diner. Nesta scoffed at the nickname she _only_ allowed Cassian to call her. She was no doubt planning how she would make Lucien pay for that later. 

Mara almost pitied the male. But then she and Ailith exchanged a look. It was time. 

"What are you two up to?" Cassian asked, looking between them with suspicion. Nesta looked at Cassian with raised eyebrows and then back to the two young females. Mara noticed that Azriel had disappeared. 

Ailith shot her father a mirror of his grin when _he_ was up to no good. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what I want to eat this morning. Come along, Mar," Ailith said, tucking her wings in tight and taking Mara's hand. The general didn't look convinced, but he looked too tired to inquire. Or care. 

Candor watched the string quartet play with mild interest. He had forgotten about the glass he held in his hand. And his ghost-white garb under his neck-high tunic, and rather tight trousers. He needed to get some new clothes. 

"You're supposed to be paying attention to the task at hand, scoundrel," Amyria said suddenly, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. 

He looked down at her and blinked. She was wearing a modest dress, also neck-high to cover her garb. 

"I am," he said. He meant it. He never let his mind stray too far from a task. 

Amyria seemed to have completely forgotten about their small quarrel the night before because that morning she shoved apart his curtains and commanded him to put on his nicest clothes. That was how he found himself at some... he wasn't sure what event was being held at the moment, but they were to find a certain lord. He went by the name Jameson. Lord Jameson. They were at a manor by the river, outside in the courtyard.

"Once you find him, tell me. I'll lure him back to my apartment. He's only in the Night Court until tomorrow morning so this is our window unless you want to make a trip to the Dawn Court. And... we don't have time for that." 

"How will you lure him to your apartment?" Candor asked. 

"How do you think?" Amyria asked him dismissively, before walking away. 

Candor watched her go with narrowed eyes. He knew he shouldn't care. It was fine. If he was being honest, he wasn't any better than Amyria. Months ago, he used to compete with Ailith at taverns. Who could get the most girls to agree to go home with them. Sometimes Ailith won. Candor had been determined, though. 

But Ailith hadn't wanted to play the game in a long while. Candor suspected Orion knew why, but his best friend didn't let up. Now, Candor supposed he wouldn't be _letting up_ any time soon. He almost scowled at the reminder that Rion wasn't currently available. 

He was surprised by the sudden loneliness that overcame him. Ailith was busy, plotting with Mara and helping her get into Lucien's head. And Rion was gone. He kept repeating that sentence over and over again. Rion was gone. Rion was gone. It was only twenty-four hours before that Candor was watching him work so hard on his clay, in that dimmed back room of Feyre's studio. It was two days ago that Candor had gotten into a brawl with Rion at a tavern, only later to be immensely scolded by their fathers, as if they were children. They were still grinning by the end of the lectures. 

Candor shook his head, before downing his drink and straightening his spine. From the corner of his eye, he saw a young female looking at him, her eyes gleaming and a small smirk playing at her lips. He looked toward where Amyria had gone. She found the target. She was touching his arm and laughing at everything the stout male seemed to say. A twinge of anger went through Candor. He wanted to rip his head off and toss his fat body into the river. He glanced back at the girl, whose dress went a little too far down her chest. He _clearly_ wasn't needed there. Amyria had it all figured out, and she wouldn't need him until she lured the target to his apartment. 

He watched the young female excuse herself from the group she had been talking to, and stride into the massive house, her hands folded behind her back. Candor downed another drink before following her. 

He didn't see Amyria turn to watch him, her smile fading for just a moment before she shot her attention back to the male in front of her, her smile widening once again, her chest aching the tiniest bit. 

Ion looked warily around the table. Evalin had her foot propped up on her seat, her elbow slung over her knee. Ever the princess. But he had a feeling she acted quite differently at any true court event. This only seemed to be her family, despite the King being there. He wasn't like most high lords Rion had met. He seemed calm, boyish, and even... amused. Always amused, by everything. He certainly _looked_ young. No older than thirty-one. But Rin was around twenty-one and the King was _human_. The math didn't add up, but Rion made a mental note to ask Evalin about that later. 

He learned their names easily enough. 

King Dorian, the man next to him was his hand, Chaol Westfall. His wife, Yrene. Their daughter, Lane. Or Celaena. He knew Sam, Evalin's twin called her Lane but he would catch himself and glance warily at Rion, or even Chaol, before correcting himself. Lane looked innocent enough. She was older than Evalin and Sam, by just a little, Rion observed. Twenty-four was his guess. But she had a doe-eyed look to her. He could see more, under her fragile layers. Something fierce. He figured out Sam was fucking her easily enough. Anyone with eyes could see it. But then he would see her cheeks blush every time she caught Sam looking at her. She would look away, fidget, even glance at Rin as if she was silently pleading every once and a while. So they weren't fucking, but Sam wanted to. He recognized that hungry, eager look anywhere. 

At one point, he caught Evalin looking at Sam, with something like... betrayal. Worry. Anger? But her mask always slipped back on just as swiftly as it had cracked. 

There was the mad princess, of both Adarlan and The Wastes, though Rion wasn't sure if _princess_ was a term used in this place they called The Wastes. It seemed like a brutal place, ruled by two queens. A mortal queen, and a cruel witch. Rin's mother, and Dorian's... well, he didn't understand _that_ part. To his understanding, they were together, but they weren't married. He thought it was strange. They had a child but did not marry. He couldn't gather more information than that. 

He only heard the term witch, and paled a little, feeling his stomach plummet. He may have a little fear of witches. At least, the ones back in Prythian. They were different in Erilea. Rin had _nails_ that came out of her cuticles. Iron ones. Evalin whispered that part to him at one point. Rin must have heard her because she shot Rion a grin and a wicked grin. He had to keep from swallowing hard. 

When he was younger, he heard horror stories of the witches of Prythian. Though, he had never come across one. Thankfully. After all, a witch cursed Candor. Rion was suddenly glad his best friend wasn't there to meet the witch that sat a few seats away. 

Aedion, Evalin, and Sam's uncle. Rion found him rather boring. He had a temper that Sam must have inherited. A different temper from Evalin's. No, he suspected Evalin inherited _that_ from either her mother or father. Probably the latter. 

Aedion and Sam were hotheads. Protective. Wary. Evalin got irritated first, then she got angry. And she had a _wicked_ temper. One Rion was coming to take a liking to. 

"You're from Wendlyn then?" Rhoe asked him from across the table. 

Rhoe. The only trait he shared with his father, Aedion, was the eyes. Everything else, he must have gotten from his mother. The dark hair, pulled back, the shape of his sharp jaw. 

Rion had to give him some credit. The man was _huge_. He could give Candor a run for his money. Rion smiled at him. "I am." 

"Not Doranelle, then?" he pushed. 

"No," Rion said, a little uneasily. He needed a geographic _and_ history lesson from Evalin later. "I've always lived in Wendlyn. My whole life." 

"Hm," Rhoe murmured. The rest of the table seemed to listen. Especially Aedion, Dorian, and Chaol. 

They were protective. Of Evalin. Rion admired that. He would like to think his uncles would act the same way if Mara brought home some strange male. Though, it would probably be stranger for her to bring home a human man. 

He glanced at Evalin, who was picking her teeth with a bone. He had to bite his tongue to stop from a smile crossing his face. He would like to see how someone like Seph would react to seeing her at the dinner table. 

His heart lurched. 

_Seph._

He was overcome with sudden heartache. Was she worried for him? Was she trying to find him? He hated that he missed her. 

Quickly pushing Seph out of his mind, he focused on those around him. Rin had been grinning at him like a wild dog. Though he didn't think it was because she thought him attractive so much as _interesting_. No, Chaol had mentioned a young girl named Marion, to which Rin's grin had faded and she had looked at the man like a wounded pup. But her madness was quickly restored shortly after that. 

Rion didn't fail to notice that the older ones were careful to skip around some subjects, mostly due to _his_ presence. Sam kept glancing between him and Evalin as if trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. Evalin noticed. Rion knew she did. But she kept her mask firmly in place. Bored. Arrogant. Rude. 

Only when she glanced at Rin towards the end did the young girl perk up and clear her throat. Her father, the king looked at her, his face turning with something that could have been fondness. 

"Oh, Orion," Rin began. "Where ever are you staying?" 

Orion glanced at Evalin. They had practiced this part. Sort of. 

"An inn by the Avery," he said with practiced ease, leaning back in his chair. 

"An inn?" Rin asked, scrunching up her nose. She was a good actress. "How utterly uninteresting. Father, do you think Orion could stay here. In the castle?" she asked. Dorian raised his eyebrows as if he hadn't expected that. 

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Orion said. 

Evalin slowly glanced at him. 

"No! You have to. The inn's in Rifthold could be so utterly undesirable. Father, please?" Rin looked toward Dorian once more. "It could be fun! Just until he must go." 

Dorian shared a glance with Chaol Westfall. He shook his head. So subtly, most would miss it. But Orion caught it. Dorian glanced back at his daughter, who was smiling at him sweetly. Orion could tell Rin was used to getting what she wanted from her father. From what he heard of the frightening Manon Blackbeak, he assumed it wasn't the same with her mother. A balance. 

"Well," Dorian said slowly. Aedion seemed to raise his eyebrows. "I don't see why not-" 

Rin began clapping her hands excitedly. Dorian was receiving glares from both Aedion and Chaol but he just grinned at them. "Oh great! How lovely-" 

"I'll show him to his chambers," Evalin said, abruptly standing. Her uncle seemed inclined to _not_ allow that. Dorian was raising his eyebrows at her, and Rhoe had his head tilted, knowingly. 

"I will," Sam said, standing as well. 

Evalin frowned. "Sam-"

"I said I will," he almost growled at her but seemed to restrain herself somewhat. There was a glaring match between the two, Evalin's hands splayed across the table in front of her. Sam crossed his arms over his chest. 

Rin looked between the two as if she was missing something. Evelin's nostrils flared, and Aedion looked ready to step between them should they begin to brawl. He looked almost exasperated as if they were fighting over a favored toy. 

"I'll go with him," Rhoe offered, standing and smiling at Evalin, who wouldn't take her eyes off of her brother. She looked inclined to say something to him, but thought better of it, before slumping down into her chair. 

"Whatever," she muttered. 

Rion tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn't look at him. 

Rhoe just walked past him, muttering for him to follow. He stood, doing as he was told. He glanced back once. Evalin wasn't glaring anymore. She looked lost in thought, thinking of something she would rather forget. Her skin had paled, and Rin was glancing at her, all amusement gone. The last thing he saw was Lane standing to take his place beside Evalin before Sam shut the doors and the three of them were alone. 

Sam turned and looked like he might pop a blood vessel, his canines elongating as he looked at Rion. Oh he was _pissed_. Rion ducked just as Sam unsheathed a dagger and threw it right at his head. He came back up with a bewildered expression. 

"What the hell?" he yelled. 

Rhoe cleared his throat. "Sam," he warned. "Control your-" 

"What are you playing at?" he demanded. 

"What am _I_ playing at?" Rion asked incredulously. "You just threw a dagger at my head!" 

"Did you fuck her?" 

Rion stared at the male before his face split into a grin. "Is _that_ what you're so worried about? Do you treat all your sister's lovers this way? Because trust me, I think she's had quite a few. What makes me so different? My ears? Careful, prince. Most would think this behavior rather strange for a brother. But you're lucky it is only me you're dealing with." 

At that, Sam lunged forward. Rhoe was there in a second, his hand pressed to his cousin's chest. "Sam, _stop it_ ," he said, his voice full of control. 

Sam was baring his teeth at Rion. How strange. Their kind was much more feral than the fae he was used to dealing with. It was a bit unsettling. Rion didn't think it was because he grew up in court. He spent a few years at the Illyrian camps, and even _they_ had somewhat more control and class than this.

He remembered Evalin, her canines sharp and her animalistic growl in the woods. The way he had pinned her to the floor, and she had brought her knee right up between his legs. That had been mere hours ago. His groin ached at the thought, and he fought the urge to adjust himself. 

"I did not bed her," he finally said. Sam seemed to calm somewhat, his teeth dulling. 

The twins didn't seem to have _much_ control over that feature. Rion wondered if it was because they were young. Another thing to put on his list of things to ask Evalin, though that one seemed a little personal. 

"Really?" Sam asked, his tone angry and unbelieving. 

"I swear it. I am truly only here on my father's behalf. Evalin approached me at the docks." 

He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. He didn't know the female well, but the lie rolled off his tongue simply enough. 

Both Rhoe and Sam shot their heads toward him at that. Perhaps the wrong thing to say. All anger left Sam's features, replaced by surprise. "She approached you?" Sam asked. 

"What was that act at dinner?" Rhoe asked. 

Rion raised his eyebrow in question. 

"I know my cousin. She doesn't bat her eyelashes and touch the arms of males just because she wants to. What was that?" Rhoe repeated. 

Rion shrugged. "No idea." He truly didn't. That was _unnecessary_. But he assumed she was making a point. To whom, he didn't know.

"She approached you?" Sam asked softly. He seemed... relieved. 

"Yes." 

Sam and Rhoe exchanged a glance. A thought occurred to Rion. 

"Who is Fenrys?" he asked. 

Sam flinched, and Rhoe's features turned into a hard glare as he looked at Rion. It took them a minute to reply. 

"Don't say his name," Sam spat, disgusted. 

Rion furrowed his brows. 

Rhoe was softer, though his glare remained. "That is not for us to tell. Come, I'll show you where you will sleep," he said, pushing past Rion. 

He already felt exhausted. From the games of the night, or from falling out of the sky, he wasn't sure which. His back ached, and he had the sudden urge to let out his wings. But he would wait. He didn't need these two knowing he was any different from them. So he followed them. Sam was silent, but Rhoe asked polite questions. One inquiring his name. 

"My father is a fan of astrology," he said simply. That was the statement of the century. If only they knew. "My mother was a hunter. It kind of makes sense." 

"Your _mother_ was a hunter?" Sam asked, puzzled. 

Rion found himself starting to glare at the male. "What's wrong with that?" he asked, a little defensively. 

"Nothing," Sam insisted. "Nothing at all." 

_Weird. Rion just shook his irritation, and relaxed his shoulders._

His chambers were smaller than Evalin's, but they were in the same wing of the castle, so that was something. He had a bathing chamber, and a bedroom, and a very small common room. That was all he needed. Although, he would be lying if he said he didn't miss his bedroom back at his parents' estate by the river. He quickly shoved those feelings away. He didn't have time for them. Sam had quickly said there was a bathing chamber around the corner and then bolted back out the room. Rhoe lingered. He was standing by the door when he gave Rion a look. Rion shot back his questioning look. 

"Evalin doesn't approach others," he said quietly. It was a strange yet simple statement. "Don't take that for granted." And then he was gone, ducking into the hallway after his cousin. 

_Okay, then._

Rion felt his muscles relax. He slowly and carefully let his wings out, careful not to flare them so he damaged anything. It was a sigh of relief when they were full and unfurled. Only when he heard his door slam open did he quickly dissipate them. Evalin strode in, slamming the door back shut behind her. 

"Subtle," Rion said sarcastically. 

Evalin just glared at him. 

"A knock would have done," he continued. 

"Suck it up," she snapped. He sighed. 

"Eva, I'm going to need a back-to-back review on the last thirty years of this hellhole," Rion confided. 

Evalin didn't seem angry that he just called her world a hellhole. Her face had relaxed and she was looking at him with wonder. "Eva?" 

"Much better than _Lin_. No offense. Eva has a nice ring to it. Don't you think?" 

"My name is Evalin." 

"Ah, but you're _named_ after your grandmother. Eva can be yours." 

"How did you know that?" 

"I saw more than a few things in your head," Rion said, pausing. A smirk was forming. "Including your dubious thoughts when I was half-naked. I didn't get far but tell me. Did you picture me fully naked? Oh please tell me you did." 

Rage contorted the young female's face. "Stay out of my head you fool," she snarled. 

"It was _before_ you told me no getting into heads." 

"I don't care. If I catch you doing it again, you will lose your favorite body part," she spat. 

Rion considered. "Fair enough." 

A wicked grin spread across Evalin's face. One that might have scared any other male. But Orion grew serious. "Alright, what's this about a war?"

Evelyn's grin faded. She sighed and crashed down into a comfy-looking chair. Rion sat in one across from her. 

"A year before I was born, a war broke out. My mother... she wasn't always Queen of Terrasen." Evalin looked away. She heard the tale so many times. She cried over it just as many. "There was a queen. In Doranelle, where most fae reside now. They called her the Fae Queen. Her name was Maeve. She posed as my mother's aunt but... she wasn't. My father worked for her. Along with other males. Fenrys-" Her voice quivered over his name. "His twin, Connell, Lorcan, Vaughn, and Gavriel. My uncle's father." 

Rion inclined his head. He wondered where Gavriel was. But the tone in her voice hinted that he was no longer with them. He knew Lorcan was alive. He heard her uncle and the king mention him many times at dinner. A demi-fae who didn't age. Until he found his mate and gave up his immortality. The fae in Prythian didn't have such an option. If a male or female fell in love with a human man or woman... well, Rion wished them the best of luck. But here, there seemed to be a solution for that problem. He wondered if Sam would do that for the human girl. Suddenly, her looks of disappointment and fear directed at her twin and his lover made all the sense in the world. _She was scared to lose her brother._

"Maeve was a being of another world. Like you but... she was monstrous. She wasn't even fae. Not... not exactly. She had married a valg king. Valgs are nasty things. My uncles call them demons. Hellish. Chaol used to tell me stories when I was young of how he wandered the sewers of Rifthold, trying to kill as many of them as possible." Evalin shrugged. "Maeve was hiding from her husband. She hid behind the one thing that could defeat Valg once and for all. Healers. Fae healers. She built an army. And yet... her husband's brother found this world. He made to conquer it. My mother... well she grew up here as a matter of fact. In the streets of Rifthold." 

"She _what_?" Rion asked, conflicted. 

Evalin nodded absent-mindedly. "She was an assassin. Worked directly for the King of Assassins. The old one, anyway. A new one resides in the Keep today. Not the point." Evalin crossed her legs and waved a hand. "Anyway, she knew she was destined for the throne of Terrasen. But her parents- my grandparents were murdered in their beds. She ran. The king of Adarlan, Dorian's father had them killed. He raided Terrasen. He would have killed my mother too. So, the King of Assassins took her. Raised her. Eventually, she became the King's personal assassin. Details later. She worked her way up. It turns out, Dorian's father was corrupted by a Valg. He died. Soon enough. And Dorian became king at the ripe age of twenty." 

Rion's eyes widened. Only twenty. 

Evalin nodded. "A boy-king."

"Cliff notes," Rion said. "Why does he still look young? You said this was all before you were born. You're what? Twenty-three? He can't be older than thirty. He's human, isn't he?" 

Evalin smiled softly. "Yes. He's human. He also has a shit ton of magic up his sleeve so don't underestimate him. As for the aging? Dorian's lover and mother of his child is an iron teeth-crochan witch. She doesn't age. He wants to stop the aging process. For both Manon and Rin. So, Yrene, Chaol's wife, and their daughter Lane have tried to conduct an immortality potion for _years_. So far they've only made it so Dorian's aging process slows progressively. But he's still aging. Yrene is a healer. A human with magical healing abilities. I'm assuming you don't have those back in Prythian. Lane has the same abilities," Evalin explained. 

Rion nodded. "Fascinating," he breathed. "Continue." 

"I'll get to the chase. My mom is the most dangerous person you'll ever meet. Even after she lost her powers," Evalin said. Rion raised a brow, so she explained. "She used to have the abilities to conjure fire. Still does. Except... it's not as powerful as it once was. She could have set entire countries on fire if she truly wanted to. Cities. She's legendary." Rion noticed the way Evalin talked about her mother with such pride, even if there was a layer under that of something he couldn't quite decipher. "She freed my father from his pact with Maeve. From the Cadre. Maeve wasn't the kindest of leaders. She had to watch Lorcan whip him as punishment at one point." 

Rion winced, the sound of a whip suddenly flashing into his ears. He had a sudden memory. His hands tied to a pole in the courtyard of an Illyrian camp. Ailith cursing and yelling while a few Illyrians held her back. He remembered her yelling. 

"Let him go Devlon!" 

Rion ignored her, his teeth gripping, his cheek resting against his bound hands. His back ached. His torso was bare. Lord Devlon was punishing him for Ailith's actions. He would have whipped her had Rion not commanded him to strike him instead. For that, he had to receive twice as many lashes as Ailith would have gotten. He lashed him. And lashed. Until Rion was limp, his head bowed over his hands. Ailith's curses and screams got louder and more fierce by the second. 

"I'll kill you Devlon!" she had yelled. That was when he told the others to take her away. "I will kill you!" she roared as they dragged her away. 

"Rion?" Evalin asked, drawing his attention. He raised his eyebrows. "Listening?" 

"Yeah. Sorry. So, what happened after she helped your father escape? How did the war come to be?" 

"Well, Chaol met Yrene in the Southern Continent. She was twenty-four. Attending a school for healers there. They learned that healers were the answer, and Chaol married her before coming back to Erilea. She was... pregnant with Lane when she defeated Erawan." Evalin smiled at Rion's baffled look. "Yeah. I guess Lane got to be there after all. Sort of. Anyway, it was Yrene who defeated him once and for all. My mother defeated Maeve. It's a lot of twisted, complicated details, but she went through hell to do it. Lost most of her powers in the process. Anyway, a few months after the war, she found out she was pregnant with Sam and I." 

Rion blinked. "That's it?" 

"Nope. There is so much more. But it would take me a very long time to tell you. Baby steps, prince." Evalin shot up, dusting off her pants, though there was nothing on them. "How about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Oh come on, no world is perfect. What's the catch over there?" Evalin leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. 

Rion furrowed his brows. "There were two wars." 

"Great," Evalin murmured. 

"Five hundred years apart. My father fought in both." Rion grinned when Evalin's jaw dropped. 

"Hold on. How _old are you_?" she asked suddenly. 

"I'm twenty-three. But my mother is only forty-five," Rion said simply. 

"Gross," Evalin said, then paused. "My father's around three-hundred and fifty," she said with a sigh. 

"Your mother?" 

"Forty-two," Evalin said. 

"Gross," Rion said, mocking her. She smiled. 

"Fae morals," Evalin said with another shrug. Rion nodded in agreement. Evalin felt memories pressing in, and she shoved them away. _Not now_ , she growled into her mind. "So, who's waiting for you back at home? Lover? Wife? Your parents?" 

Rion snorted. "No lovers," he said, though he couldn't be sure. He was wondering if Seph was looking for him, once again. "I have a sister. I know she's looking for me." 

"Oh?" 

"I don't have to be a seer to know that. Mara is... stubborn. When she sets her mind to something, she will get it done. I have no doubts Mara is dragging our cousins around right now, trying to figure out where the hell I've gone." 

"She sounds like someone I would like. Older or younger?" 

"Younger. I don't know about that." 

"Why not?" 

"Mara's... well, she's different. Not many take a liking to her. She's closest to my cousin, Ailith. But she keeps to herself. I don't even think she's ever taken a lover. She just... doesn't understand those things. Never has. Love is utterly uninteresting to her. She doesn't care for much." Rion shrugged. "But I know she's looking for me." 

"Well," Evalin whispered, turning away from her. "Lucky her. Love gets in the way. Makes us weak." 

"You sound exactly like her," Rion murmured. 

"The only difference between us is that love has already made me weak," Evalin said. She regretted the words as soon as they came out. She peered over her shoulder. Rion was looking at her as if she was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. "Goodnight, Rion. Sleep well. We will get started tomorrow." 

He nodded. "Goodnight darling," he said smoothly. She wanted to glare at him or snap at him for calling her such a ridiculous thing but found she didn't have the energy. She just rolled her eyes and strode to the door. 

She froze for a moment, turning her head to look back at him. He was watching her, and she could have sworn she could see shadows behind him, forming into the shape of those giant, frightening wings. She quickly looked away and stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind her before she leaned back against the door, closing her eyes. 

Mara and Ailith had sat down at the table again. Lucien was eating silently, and Elain was watching him. Apollas had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen, but Amyria's father remained. Mara had cleared her mind before Ailith nodded to her and she plunged into Lucien's. Getting through his shields took time, and it was a bit complicated, but she did it. She dug and dug. She saw some things she preferred not to see, but she searched for one thing. The cauldron. 

It required going deep into his mind. Something he shut out for years. A pact. Made with her parents. Ailith's parents. Long ago. Before she was born. She saw a conversation with Azriel from before she was born that she found particularly interesting. But, she quickly realized what the conversation was about and averted that memory. She didn't want to have such knowledge. She searched and searched. 

Cauldron, cauldron, cauldron. 

But then she stumbled upon something from just days ago. 

"We need to tell them before I start showing," Elain was saying. They seemed to be in their home. Lucien was standing by a mirror, loosening the cuffs around his wrists. 

"I know," he said softly. "We will." 

_What_? 

Mara gaped at the memory. 

Moving on...

Where was that damn cauldron. 

Ailith stared at her cousin. She had been still for a long moment, staring at Lucien. He pretended he didn't notice, but his brow furrowed and he gave her a pointed look. His red hair was tied back, and cascading down his back. Mara's lip twitched, but she didn't move. 

"Mara, are you alright?" he asked. 

Elain looked up, and Varion narrowed his eyes at Mara. _Shit._ They're going to find out. 

_Mara_ , Ailith thought loudly, hoping Mara would somehow hear her. 

"Mara?" Lucien asked, concern more evident in his tone. 

"Mara!" Ailith snapped. 

Mara blinked and looked around the room. She found Lucien's gaze again and smiled. "Oh, yes. Sorry. Just zoned out for a moment. I have a lot on my mind. Sorry, uncle," she said. 

Lucien looked relieved. He just shook his head. "Don't be," he muttered. 

Ailith was staring at her with such intensity. Mara met her gaze, and though her face remained blank, Ailith practically sensed the wicked gleam in her eyes. 

_I know where it is_ , Mara hissed into her mind. 

Ailith found herself swallowing hard. 


	6. Little Fire

Evalin looked up from the grasslands at Sam. _Look at him,_ she thought. She was only twelve, but she knew she didn't have the ability to shift. She had been trying for years. It wasn't like she was demi-fae. There was something _wrong_ with her. 

_Please, Evalin. Try. You aren't even trying. Shift. You can do it,_ Vaughn had begged just a few days earlier.

 _I can't,_ she had said until tears were spilling out of her eyes. He had given up, exasperated. The look of disappointment almost shattered her. 

Now, feeling small and weak, she watched Sam circle the skies, just a boy. She hugged her arms around her knees, resting her chin in the crook between them. 

"What's wrong, little fire?" 

Evalin didn't lift her head to look at Fenrys. She felt ashamed. "I want to fly," she breathed, watching Sam. 

When she finally looked up at Fenrys, he was watching her. Not Sam. 

"Why can't I shift?" she asked her still-high voice breaking. 

Ferns took his time sitting beside her, leaning his palms back, facedown in the grass. A small smile was playing on his lips. "Do you want to know a secret, little fire?" he asked. Evalin hesitantly nodded, ignoring the sudden burning in her eyes and the lump in her throat. "You can't shift because you hold _so_ much power in other ways. Nature needs to find a balance." Then he turned his head to look at her, a glimmer in her eyes. "One day, you'll conquer the world with that power of yours." 

Evalin tilted her head to the side. She wasn't oblivious to her icy flames. She had burned others before, on accident. She burned a schoolboy once and immediately burst into tears, begging him for forgiveness even as he gave her a horrified look. She remembered the way he kept glancing at her _ears_. 

She swallowed. "I don't _feel_ powerful." 

"You will. Your power will catch up with you. Your enemies will fear you. And you _will_ be the most powerful being in this world," Fenrys said as if it were nothing. " _That_ is why you cannot shift. But it's okay. That does not define you." 

Evalin was staring at him with wide eyes now. "You promise?" she asked. 

He smiled at her and nodded slowly. A smile split across her face. 

"But don't tell Sam I told you. He might get jealous," Fenrys whispered conspiratorially. Evalin giggled and nodded. 

Evalin shot up from her bed, gasping for breath, a cold sweat spreading down the small of her back. Her nostrils flared as she panted, her eyes stinging. She leaned forward, bending her knees and running her hands through her hair, letting out a sob. Quickly, she slapped her hand over her mouth. 

_No._

Not today. Not after three years. She wasn't going to cry. 

Taking a shuddering breath, she rubbed her face with shaking hands. A dim light was streaming through her windows. It was early. The sun was just rising. 

Evalin sniffed, resting her elbows on her knees, waiting for her heart rate to go back to normal. There was a knock at her door, and she stared at the double doors leading out of her bedroom for a full minute before standing and walking out, to the door. She didn't care that she was only wearing a shift. It was probably Rin, she supposed. 

But when she opened the door, she was met with a pair of blue-violet eyes. Evalin frowned, her arms instinctively crossing to cover what she could. But he kept his eyes trained on her face. 

"Orion, what are you doing? It's early as hell." 

"Are you okay?" he asked. Evalin raised her eyebrows, surprised by the question. 

"I'm... I'm fine. Why-"

"I felt you. You were... upset. Scared," he said. For once, that arrogant taunting tone was gone from his voice. 

Evalin hoped he couldn't hear her heart rate begin to speed up. She glanced behind him, out the hall before meeting his gaze once more. "You felt that?" she asked. He nodded. "You can do that?" 

"I can do a lot of things," he said simply. To anyone else, the statement might sound ego-boosting. But he was being serious. 

"How?" 

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just can. I've always been able to do that. But it's... a little stronger with you. I mean, you were practically projecting your feelings out." 

"I had a bad dream," Evalin snapped. Then she recoiled, closing her eyes. That was a lie. It hadn't been a bad dream at all. She didn't like him seeing her like this, with so much skin showing looking so vulnerable. Not that his eyes had left her face for one second. She opened her eyes again. "Go back to bed, Rion. I'll come to get you for our research later." She didn't wait to hear his response before shutting the door and locking it. 

She didn't sleep again. 

"By the way, you can't use your magic while you're here," Evalin said, a few hours later when she was walking down a hall with Rion. 

"Why not?"

"Because I've never heard of any fae being able to appear in different places- except one. And he's away," Evalin said, her voice quivering a little. She cleared her throat. "Getting into others' heads? Never heard of it. Being able to... whatever you did earlier? Not a thing. You're a wyvern in a crowd of humans." 

Rion raised a brow, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked beside her. "Wyvern?" 

"Creatures the Ironteeth witches use for transportation, amongst... other things," Evalin explained. Rion's eyes widened. 

"There are _dragons_ here?" he asked. 

Evalin let out a haughty laugh, holding her stomach. "No. Those are myths. Don't embarrass yourself by confusing a wyvern with a dragon. Completely separate. Wyverns don't breathe fire and they have a different look. Smaller, as well. You'll see one eventually. Rin has one. He's in his private stables that Dorian built for both Manon and Rin." 

"So, I can't use my magic?" 

"No." 

"Wouldn't it be a little suspicious if I didn't use any magic at all?" 

Evalin stopped walking and turned to face him, arms crossed. He stopped with her. 

"Possibly. The only free reign I can give you that isn't... new. Or, bizarre, is... elemental magic. I don't suppose you have any?" Evalin raised an eyebrow. 

Rion held up his hand, a small little ball of orange flame forming. Slowly. Evalin watched, her eyes widening. She felt a small breeze at her back, moving her hair. A deliberate breeze. In the middle of a hall with no windows. Evalin had to fight her mouth from falling open. Rion let the flame disappear, and she watched as he stepped closer to her, one of his hands going to cup her cheek. She was about to jerk out of his hold and possibly punch him in the face when-

She gasped. His hand was icy cold against her skin. She was staring at him as if he was a being not of this world. She supposed that was appropriate. 

"How?" she asked, her voice a breath. He dropped his hand and took a step back. 

"My mother," he said. That was all he gave up. 

"What's your strongest element?" she asked. 

The smirk dispersed from his lips. "I've mastered all of them I would say. There is one magic that I am quite skilled at more thoroughly. Though, I cannot say I am more skilled than my sister with it," he said. Evalin waited, a questioning look on her face. He grinned, and leaned in, so his mouth was level with her ear. "I can manipulate the darkness. I thrive in the darkness," he whispered. 

As if on cue, Evalin could see shadows seeping in through the corners of her vision. He pulled back, and the shadows seemed to curl around him, darkness falling and clinging to his very skin. She blinked, and the darkness disappeared. She thought she saw the shape of wings shaped by dark mist behind him, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. 

_Satisfied?_ A deep, velvet voice that belonged to him whispered into her mind. She blinked. 

"You're strange," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

"Do I scare you?" he asked. 

She looked him up and down. This young man seemed to be the night itself. His eyes made of stars. His skin made of moonlight. His hair the dark sky. She shook her head. "No. You do not scare me. You fascinate me." 

His face softened, and a look of wonder crossed his features. Evalin turned and continued walking. He followed her. "So where are we going?" he asked, his voice light. 

"The royal library," she said, not missing a beat. 

"I found it! I found it," Mara said, pacing around, a maddening gleam to her eyes. 

"You haven't _found_ anything," Ailith said, her knee propped up, holding her elbow. She was lounging on Candor's only chair. He didn't keep much furniture in his apartment. Everyone else was standing up. 

"I will. I will find it. It will be _mine,_ " Mara snarled, her face stuck in a wicked smile. 

Candor exchanged a glance with Ailith. Seph cleared her throat. 

"So, do you plan on telling us where exactly the Cauldron is?" she asked, her voice serene. Mara's face shot up to her. 

"Why do you care?" she snapped, her mood changing swiftly. 

Seph's eyes widened slightly, and she looked as if she was biting her tongue, keeping herself from falling to Mara's games. 

"Why do I care?" she repeated, her voice harsh, but level. "I care because one of my closest friends is stuck in the Mother knows where! Maybe if you stopped acting like a loon and told us where the damn thing is, we could go get him!" 

"Your closest friend?" Mara let out a crow of laughter. "Please, everyone in this room knows you fucked him for a few months before deciding he wasn't _good enough_ for you," Mara spat. "You don't _deserve_ my brother. You're just the daughter of a coward." 

Seph blinked, and Apollas's eyes blazed with anger. Candor's brows were furrowed and Amyria was staring at Mara as if she had completely lost it. Ailith was just watching the scene, looking completely at ease. 

Mara stood there, her face completely blank and her eyes vacant. She twitched as if fighting something deep within her. All anger seeped away. Until there was nothing left. She looked up and blinked as if she didn't recognize anyone. "My apologies," she said, her voice hollow. "I don't know what came over me." 

Now Ailith was looking at her with concern. Mara had moments like these every so often. More frequent lately. Boosts of joy or anger, jealousy or sadness, and then... gone. As if it was never there at all. As if something deep inside of her was trying to _fight_ its way out. Ailith didn't understand. If she ever asked Mara about it, her friend would look at her and smile, before saying something cryptic. 

She cleared her throat. "I didn't mean it, Seph. We need to get to the cauldron. When I went into Lucien's mind I saw a memory." She drifted to Candor's fireplace, looking into the fire with hard eyes. "It was our parents. All of them. There was... a male. He looked different. I've never seen such a fae have those wings..." 

"What did you see, Mara?" Candor asked, his interest piqued. 

Mara didn't look at any of them. "His wings were made of feathers. His mate was there. I believe she was his mate. She didn't have those wings. Her ears... she wasn't full fae." Mara furrowed her eyebrows, trying to conjure up the memory. "My parents... they gave the cauldron to them. So the other high lords wouldn't grapple over it. Once they took the cauldron, they let the other high lords believe it was lost to war. They have an island. A place I've never heard of before. You won't find it in any books or maps-"

"Where is the cauldron, Mara?" Candor demanded. 

Mara lifted her head, her mismatched eyes meeting his dark ones. "Cretea. It's on a hidden island named Cretea." 

"It's just in here," Evalin said, walking past the grand doors of the royal library. Orion looked around in amazement. 

"My sister would love this place," he breathed. Evalin shrugged. 

"It's okay. I've never been much of a reader. Sam was always the poetic one. The one with his nose stuck in a book. I think my mom would have loved me to read soppy romance books. So we could talk about them. But I could never sit still. I hated school," Evalin said. Although, she didn't hate school because of the education. 

She had a sudden memory surface. A bunch of boys and girls, all young, whispering and casting glances at her. Her hair. Her ears. Those were the things they looked at the most. She didn't fit in. 

"Why is your hair white if you're not old?" a girl once asked her. She had touched her hair self-consciously. She was only nine. 

"I... I don't know," she said. The girl shrugged, before turning away. Evalin didn't stop thinking about her hair for years. She asked her mother to dye it at one point. Her mother forbade it and always cooed about how beautiful her natural hair color was. It didn't help anything. 

Normally royal children were homeschooled, but Sam had begged to go to school with other children. He always fit better with others. When the kids commented on his ears, he took it like a champ, making a joke or bragging about how magnificent his ears were. Evalin took the comments like bruises. She had to go to school with Sam. They were a pair. Even if she suffered, and he had the time of his life. 

"Eva?" 

Evalin found herself drawn back to the present. She raised her eyebrows and looked up to Rion. She found she had to crane her head to peer up into his face, which was infuriating. She hated her height. It was one more thing to add to the list of imperfections to herself. 

"Stop calling me that," she snapped. 

Rion only smiled. "There you are. Thought I lost you for a second." 

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. The books we're looking for will be at the very back of the library." 

But when they got to the place she suspected the ancient books would be, there were two guards, guarding that section of the library. She sauntered right up to them, smirking and saluting sarcastically. "Evening gentlemen. I'm just going to squeeze past..." 

One guard stepped in her way. "Not today, princess," he said, almost exasperatedly. 

Evalin recognized this guard. Her face lit up. His name was Jenson. She used to train with him when she was little. Jenson was only a few years older than her-and a man. Of course. When Sam or Rhoe refused to train with her, Jenson would offer himself, and they would spar until they dropped. 

"Jenson! It has been quite a bit. Me and my friend need to get in _there_ ," she said, pointing her finger past his shoulder. "Can't tell you why. Secret mission." 

"This is the forbidden part of the library, my lady. Only the king himself is allowed in," Jenson said, stone-faced, and tone harsh. Of course. Jenson always said he wanted to join the royal guard. They turned him into a humorless brute. And he was using formalities with her. She frowned, at the term he had used with her. 

"Come on Jenson, I thought we were friends. Call me Evalin. And, I don't know... let me into this section. I'll keep it just between us. Yeah? How about that?" Evalin puffed her chest slightly and shot Jenson one of her best smiles. She thought she heard Rion stifle a snort behind her. She wanted to punch him again. 

"Come back with a note from the king. Or don't come back at all," he said. 

Evalin straightened. Showing off her tits wasn't going to work. She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come on, batboy." 

Jenson raised an eyebrow at her nickname for Rion, but she ignored him, turning around and walking past Rion. He leaned down behind her, lowering his voice to a whisper. 

"You know I could just-"

"No. You can't. I'm sure if Dorian doesn't want anyone getting in there, he also put wards. We're going to have to find another way in. And I know how," Evalin whispered as they walked away. 

Ten minutes later, they were in what looked like a training hall. Sam and Rhoe were at it, Sam twisting and swinging his sword, Rhoe blocking it with his own, a small grunt escaping him. He kicked Sam back, square in the chest, but Sam quickly recovered. 

Evalin stood watching, a smile playing on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. This was the most comfortable he'd seen her. Ironic, in the midst of violence. _Feisty little thing,_ Rion thought as he watched her. 

Sam kicked one of Rhoe's legs, bringing him down. In a second he was stepping on his cousin's chest, his sword pointed at his neck. They were both panting, and sweaty. Rhoe glared up at Sam, but a second later his face broke into a grin. Sam grinned back and offered his arm, lowering his sword. Rhoe took it, and that's when they turned to Evalin. They must have noticed her when they walked in, especially Sam, but they didn't stop their training. 

"You two brutes didn't invite me to the brawl?" Evalin asked, her voice high. 

"You seemed... busy," Rhoe said, glancing at Rion and quickly glancing away. The grin was gone from Sam's face and it suddenly looked like someone just killed his puppy. Had Rhoe seen Rion at Evalin's door that morning, or Sam sense him? No. He couldn't have. Rion would know it if that was the case. 

But Evalin was unphased by his assumption. Her smile only grew and she shrugged. "Never busy for a fight." 

"Did you need something?" Sam cut in, glancing at Orion and back at his sister. "Or did you come here to train?" 

She shook her head. "Not today. I need Rhoe." 

"Why?" Rhoe asked. 

"Top secret mission," Evalin said, her voice full of mocking secrecy. Sam pushed his hair back with one hand, the strands moist with wet. 

"I should go, anyway. I have to help my uncle with something," Sam said. 

Both Evalin and Rhoe gave him unimpressed looks. "Have fun kissing Aedion. I mean, helping Aedion." Evalin coughed. "My bad." 

Both Rhoe and Sam gave her incredulous looks. She shrugged. Sam let out an annoyed sigh before sheathing his sword and striding out of the hall. Rhoe's face became serious. "What do you want?" he asked seriously. 

"I need you to pretend to be the king for a few minutes," Evalin said as if talking about the weather. Rhoe flinched, looking startled. 

"You _what_?"

"Look, I need to get into the restricted section of the library, and I need Dorian's face to do that. How do I use his face without getting the man himself? You. Help me. Please?" Evalin smiled innocuously. 

"Hold on," Rion said. "What?" 

"Rhoe's a shifter," Evalin confirmed. 

Rion looked the hulking man up and down, furrowing his brows. "You can shift into... anything?" he asked. 

"Pretty much," Rhoe said, shooting Evalin a glare. "As long as I've seen it. Or have some idea of what it looks like. But when it comes to literal _treason_ , I draw the line." He said this last part to Evalin. 

She waved her hand dismissively. "I commit treason every day. What's the harm?"

"The _harm_ is that I don't shift into people. It's like, an unspoken rule. Not anyone real, anyway," Rhoe said. 

"What about that time-"

"We don't talk about that!" Rhoe suddenly boomed. Rion raised his eyebrows, and Evalin was grinning like a dog. Rion found himself curious about what Evalin was about to reveal. Rhoe sighed. "Why do you need to get into the restricted part of the library?" 

Evalin looked over her shoulder and exchanged a glance with Rion. She then looked back to Rhoe, who was looking between the two of them. "I can't tell you." 

"What? Why not?" 

"I just can't. Please, Rhoe?" Evalin was done being playful. She was serious now. "I need you to do this." 

He hesitated, before sighing, his shoulders relaxing. "Fine. But if I get executed, then I am going to drag your soul to hell with me." 

"That's why you have me!" 

They turned to see Rin jump down from a ledge in the corner. She dusted off her pants. "We won't get caught. But if we do... I'll take the blame." She grinned, her eyes closing as she did so. 

"How long have you been there?" Rhoe asked uneasily. It seemed like he didn't want to know the answer. 

Rin ignored him. "Let's turn you into my father, yeah?" 

Candor sat on a rooftop, looking over Velaris. The city was beautiful. The Court of Dreams. He was lucky to have grown up in such a place. He looked down. He went to the riverfront estate just an hour before, right after Mara's confession. The house that was usually cheery and full of laughter was gloomy. He didn't see Feyre once. Nobody said what was all looming over them. 

Orion's birthday was the next day. He was turning twenty-four. And he wasn't there to celebrate it. Candor furrowed his brows, watching as a strand of white hair fell over the bridge of his nose. They had a tradition. Every year on Orion's birthday, they drank until they could barely walk. Him, Ailith, and Candor. Then, they would go to the Cabin and make as much noise as they wanted. Laughing their asses off, reminiscing. Orion would sneak out early the next morning to be with Seph. Every year. The tradition would have been different this year. There would be no sneaking out to climb into sheets with Seph. 

Orion was done with Seph. They had that conversation. 

"Would you be with her? If she would have you?" 

"I'm not her mate," Orion had said. "She wants to find her mate." 

"She doesn't have one," Candor had said, sounding so sure. 

Orion had just given him a withering look. 

Candor let out a sigh. It was weird. Orion was the oldest. He was the one everyone went to for advice. Well, some of them. 

Candor knew Amyria was there, even though she was deadly silent. He sensed her sit down next to him. They were both quiet for a long amount of time. "It doesn't exist. Cretea." 

"Mara saw it." 

"Mara is a manipulative witch," Candor said, having trouble keeping the anger from his voice. 

Amyria didn't respond at first. "I'm scared, Candor," she whispered into the darkness. 

He frowned, looking at her. He had never heard her admit to such a thing, let alone show it. But she did look scared. Deep in thought. He didn't know what could have possibly shaken her so. She looked at him and swallowed, shaking her head. 

"I'm sorry. I just... I learned something. Months ago..."

"The Suriel?" Candor asked. She nodded. He waited, but she didn't tell him anything. He hadn't expected her to. 

She just let out a long breath and closed her eyes. When she rested her head on Candor's shoulder and looked out at the city lights, he stiffened slightly. He relaxed and put an arm around her. She seemed so lax, the fear from before gone. 

"We have to go to Cretea," she said. 

"A place that doesn't exist?" 

"It exists, Candor. I can feel it in my bones," she said. He furrowed his brows but didn't say anything. 

"Say it is real. How do we get there? Can we even winnow? I mean- can Mara winnow us there? She said it's hidden. It's been hidden for over five hundred years. Don't you think someone would have stumbled upon it by now? A sailor, perhaps." 

"Mara can get us in," Amyria said. "She's powerful." There was a hint of something to her voice. A knowing. _What the fuck did the Suriel tell her?_ "I need to go," Amyria said suddenly, standing. Candor looked at her, a question in his eyes. She looked angry. "My mother. I need..." She shook her head. He understood. He felt bad for anyone in the vicinity when Amyria fought with her mother. They might just blow the roof off a building. Their screaming matches were scary. 

"Okay," Candor said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. 

She was gone the next second. And Candor was alone. He felt more alone these days than ever before. 

"I can't believe she said that to me," Seph said, her voice full of restrained anger. 

Amyria lounged on the sofa in the loft Seph was renting. Apollas sat rigidly, his eyes focused on the carpeted floor. Amyria noticed the white-hot anger he had shown when Mara insulted Seph. She was trying _not_ to comment on it. But Seph was too busy dealing with her anger to notice anything. 

"She didn't mean it," Amyria said. 

"Of course she meant it. One day that cold-hearted bitch will get what's coming to her," Seph hissed. 

"Need I remind you," Amyria said calmly. "That she is Orion's sister. And I don't know... a high lord's daughter. I would cease whatever revenge plans that are circulating your pretty little head." 

Seph shot Amyria a glare, but Amyria glared right back. 

" _I'm_ a high lord's daughter," Seph challenged. 

"Who would win in a fight?" Amyria asked, standing. "Your father? Or _hers_?" Seph was Amyria's closest friend, and she cared about her deeply. But she was naive. Foolish. She did what she wanted, and acted innocent when the consequences weren't in her favor. Amyria was her anchor, making sure she didn't do anything stupid. Apollas was neutral. The one making sure Amyria didn't accidentally kill her friend. 

What she refrained from saying, was that Mara would kill her should Seph give her reason to. Easy. She knew. Mara was stronger than any of them. The only one stronger than her out of the seven of them was Orion. So, if Amyria had to threaten Seph to keep her from getting herself killed, then so be it. 

Seph ignored Amyria's jab. "One day... I will be a high lady. Orion high lord. And Mara will be _nothing_. Candor would agree with me if he were here," Seph said, her last words directed towards Amyria. 

Amyria ignored the mention of her business partner. 

"Leave him out of this," she snarled. 

Apollas raised his eyebrows in the corner, and Amyria shut her eyes. She didn't have to open them to know Seph was smiling. Point to her. 

"So what happens when we get Rion back? You get back together? You use him to get to Mara? Just like last time?" Amyria snapped. 

"I _didn't_ use him-"

"Yes you did. We all know it. Everybody except the man himself that is," Amyria pressed. 

Apollas was standing now, and Amyria could practically feel Seph's power rippling in the air, pressing into the walls, making it hard to breathe. 

"Ladies," Apollas said, cutting in. "Enough. We all want the same thing," he said softly. Seph's power loosened, and she looked away from Amyria. "Fighting won't make Mara any more miserable, trust me. She's just a girl who wants her brother back." 

"Candor thinks it's more than that," Amyria murmured. 

"What?" Apollas said flatly. 

"He thinks she has insincere intentions. More than just getting Rion back. I just... can't figure out what Mara could want with the cauldron. Why she's so desperate to keep this information from her parents and travel to a different..." Amyria bit her lip. "Place." 

"Who knows, and who cares," Seph said. "She's a _witch_." 

Apollas grew pale at the term. "Don't say _that_ ," he said quietly. 

A reason Mara didn't go to the Illyrian camps with Orion and Ailith when they were younger. The other Illyrians would treat her worse than even Orion and Ailith, just because of her magic. And the fact she was female. Orion was a male. And Ailith wasn't flashy with her magic. 

Amyria found herself narrowing her eyes at the thought of Ailith's powers. Those. Something she inherited from her mother. Something... that shouldn't be allowed. She closed her eyes and shook the thoughts out of her mind. 

"As we speak, Mara is trying to figure out how in the hells we're going to get to Cretea. When she does... we all have to go. We have to," Amyria confided. 

Apollas tilted his head at her. "I never pegged you as one that would be so eager to get our beloved prince back," he said, more behind his words. 

She would tell them what the Suriel she caught told her. One day. But not today. Not tomorrow. But one day. For now, she just grinned at him and shrugged. "What can I say? Rion always made things interesting. It's getting a little dry around here without him." 

"Uh, more stubble. Yeah, definitely," Rin said. 

Rion was staring at Rhoe, his mouth open, his skin pale. Evalin had been watching him, a lazy smile on her face, her cheek resting against her arm while she lounged on the sofa in Rin's chambers. The biggest ones in the castle after Dorian's and Chaol's. Rion looked over at Evalin, and she glanced at Rhoe, before doing a double-take. Her jaw dropped. 

"Better?" Rhoe asked, in Dorian's voice. He looked _exactly_ like the king. A strand of wavy raven-black hair fell over his forehead, his crystal-blue eyes catching Evalin's gaze. 

Evalin sighed, sinking back into the cushions of the sofa. "You look..." 

Rin whipped her head at Evalin's dazed look and delighted voice. "Disgusting!" she exclaimed. Evalin blushed slightly. 

"Where do you think you get your gorgeous looks from?" she asked Rin with a sly smile. 

"Ew. And thanks?" Rin shook her head. "Whatever. Your shoulders are still too broad. Loosen the Ashryver genes, would you?" she snapped at Rhoe. He complied, the slight popping of muscles making Evalin cringe. 

"Wow," Rion muttered in disbelief. Rin and Rhoe couldn't hear him, but Evalin did. 

She leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice. "Come on, you're telling me you can't make yourself look like someone else amongst your millions of abilities?" she asked. 

Rion glanced at her, and a small smile had formed in the corner of his mouth. "No. Although I must admit, if I had that ability, the pranks I would pull on my uncles and father would be legendary." He grinned at the thought. Evalin hummed in response. "I can make slight changed to my appearance though. Nothing big. It's called glamouring. Glamouring doesn't just have to do with appearance, though. I can... alter the minds of humans. Fae too, but that's more my Daemati side than anything," Rion said. Evalin looked at him incredulously. He smiled, and a small gasp escaped her lips when he rounded his ears, made his eyes brown. He found his gaze drifting to her now parted lips. Her _full_ , naturally pink-hued lips-

As soon as he felt Rin's gaze shift he returned his features to the ones he was born with. She grinned proudly at them. "My work... is done." 

Rhoe looked incredibly uncomfortable, but if Evalin didn't know that was Rhoe, she would be fully convinced it's Dorian. It was uncanny. Rin glanced at Rhoe and frowned. 

"Fix your posture. You have to look like you own the ground you walk on," she snapped, shoving his shoulders back. 

"This isn't right..." He groaned, looking guilty as ever. It was strange. Evalin had never heard that guilty, hesitant tone come out of Dorian's mouth before, and yet it was happening. Dorian always seemed sure of himself, confident, maybe a little arrogant. But he was a _king._ Evalin had fond memories of playing with him when she was much younger, but she remembered the hard, stern look that clouded his features if Rin ever caused trouble or did something she wasn't supposed to. Her skin would pale and she would dread that look on her father's face. 

"Suck it up, buttercup," Rin cooed. 

"Alright," Rhoe sighed. "It's now or never." 

"That's what I like to hear," Rin said, crossing her arms. 

They were walking towards the large wooden doors of the library, Evalin's eyes darting around anxiously as if she expected the real Dorian to come strolling over any second. Or worse. Chaol. He would know right away that _this_ was not the man he grew up with. Rhoe was fidgety. Rin had to keep reminding him to act like _Dorian_. That was hard. Nobody could act like Dorian except Dorian. 

"Posture," Rin hissed. Rhoe immediately straightened his back. Rion watched with amusement. 

_This isn't going to work_ , a voice like the night itself said into her mind. She shot Rion a glare. He kept his face placid. 

_I said to stay out of my mind_ , she thought. She wasn't sure how this worked at all.

 _I am not in your mind. Not exactly. Not past your shields, anyway_ , his voice said. 

_The guards are not supposed to question the King. Even if they notice that he's acting... different, they can't exactly say that to his face, can they?_ She thought, responding to his first statement. 

_I guess we will see_ , he said. When she glanced at him, he had a taunting smirk on his face. 

It took them a couple of minutes to walk through the library, heading towards the back. To the restricted section. Jansen and the other guard saw Evalin and Rion first. Jansen's face contorted into a scowl, but then he saw Dorian-or Rhoe, and his scowl dispersed. His spine went ramrod straight, and he bowed, in unison with the other guard. Evalin had to keep from smiling. 

"Your highness," Jansen said, rising again. 

Rhoe blinked at him, his perfect blue eyes wide. "Uh... hey," he said. Rin let out a long sigh that could have been disappointment. 

Evalin took the reigns. "You told me I needed the King's permission. This good enough for ya?" she snapped. 

Jansen flinched and stammered. "Well, uh... is it-sir-" 

Rhoe just watched him stutter, blinking slowly, his hands behind his back. It looked like he was going to be sick. 

"Your highness," Evalin hissed. 

Rhoe looked at her, looking confused. "Huh?" 

Orion's face contorted into something that looked like annoyance. His eyes concentrated, he stared at Rhoe, unblinking. Shoe's features relaxed. Evalin glanced between the two. 

"Jansen," Rhoe said, his voice sounding commanding and full of power. _That_ sounded like Dorian. "You are to let Evalin and her friend in. Or I will move you to a different position. Will that be necessary?" 

Jansen paled. "No! Not at all, sir," he said, stepping aside. The other guard moved, too, staring at Rhoe. Evalin was staring at Orion now. He looked more relaxed. 

"Um... thanks," Evalin said to Rhoe. He nodded. 

Rin stepped close. "We will be right outside in case you need us," she whispered, glaring at Jansen before nodding to Rhoe. 

Without another word, they went their separate ways. Evalin and Rion walked past the guards, deeper into the restricted section of the library. When they were out of earshot of the guards, Evalin hissed to Rion, "what did you do?" 

"I told him what to do." 

"Did you... _mind control_ him?" she asked incredulously. 

Rion tipped back his head and let out a boisterous laugh that traveled along her bones and made her flesh prickle. He looked... attractive when he laughed. She shoved that thought away with disgust. "Cauldron, no. I simply told him what to say and how to say it, and made him think it was his thoughts." 

"What's the Cauldron?" Evalin asked, surprising him. 

He blinked at her before answering. "I'll tell you another time. It's a lot to unpack, but... well I supposed it's your version of referring to the gods. Like a swear." 

"Huh," Evalin said. He noticed the phrase, probably from her own words or someone else's, but he never inquired about it. She decided she would tell him about the gods later. 

Mara sat in the darkness of her room. Staring at the wall. She had retreated into herself. Into her mind. And there was a battle happening. 

_"There you are," she said into the darkness._

_"Here I am," the girl said, her back facing Mara. Mara could only see the cascade of her dark hair down her back. Not her face. She looked at the back of her moon-white arm. Her arms were wrapped around her torso._

_"You need to stop."_

_"I will not stop until you let me out," the other girl snapped, turning her head slightly._

_"I will never let you out," Mara shot back, her voice full of restrained anger. The girl looked straight ahead again into the darkness, Mara again facing the back of her head._

_"You can't keep letting the darkness corrupt you," the girl whispered. "One day... something will break you. And you won't be able to keep me locked up any longer."_

_"The darkness protects me," Mara snapped. "Don't you understand? Nothing like what happened in Hewn City will ever happen again. And... it's because of the darkness."_

_The girl went rigid. Slowly, so slowly, she turned around to face Mara. Mara stood there, staring at a mirror of her face. Her mismatched eyes. Her thin, slender frame. The tattoo of an upside-down crescent moon on her forehead._

_"You have to_ feel. _You have to-"_

_"I don't feel anything," Mara said. "And it will remain that way."_

_"You can't keep this part of yourself locked up forever. You can't keep me locked up forever," the girl said._ She _said._

_Mara smiled. "I can. And I will." She smiled, watching herself beneath lowered brows._

_Her other half shook her head. "No. No, don't-"_

_But Mara was shutting the door to the depths of her mind. She ignored the screaming. Her screaming. The begging. The power behind that locked door. The demand to be let out._

Mara gasped, blinking, and seeing her room again. She looked around, dazed. She was back. She let out a long sigh, rubbing her hands over her face. But she was fine. It felt good. To feel numb again. To feel nothing. The outburst of anger from earlier was unacceptable. She had to make sure...

She shook her head. Emotions were a weakness. She didn't have time for weakness. She needed to do what she planned on doing that day. 

Ten minutes later, she was outside Amren's apartment. The one she kept in Velaris for when she and Varian left the Summer Court. She was hoping Varian wasn't with her at the moment. 

But when she reached up her hand to knock, the door swung open. Mara was met with a silver glare. "Why are you lingering on my doorstep, girl?" Amren hissed. 

Mara lifted her chin. Straight to the point. Don't beat around the bush. "I need your help," Mara said. Amren stared at her silently, her glare softening the slightest bit. Mara was closest to three women growing up, besides her mother. Amren, Nesta, and Mor. Mor taught Mara how to flirt, which boys to pick out, or girls... but Mara had no interest in flirting or courting or keeping lovers. Amren and Nesta taught her how to conquer her weaknesses. To never yield. To anyone. While Morrigan was teaching her how to dress, the two other women were teaching her to kick any man in the groin who wronged her. 

Her father was wary of her relationship with the two women. 

"How good are you at keeping secrets from my parents? Ones that involve me?" Mara asked. 

Now she had Amren's attention. A small, wicked smile spread across her blood-red lips. "Girl," she said slowly. "You came to the right place. Tell me what you're up to. All of you," Amren hissed, eyeing Mara like she was prey. 

Mara smiled triumphantly and sauntered past Amren into the apartment. 

"So, you do know I can't read any of this, right? Not the symbols or the... language. What _is_ this?" Rion squinted at the small words in the book he was reading. 

"Eyllwe," Evalin said, not glancing up from the book she was reading. "I must admit I am not fluent in the language. But I can understand the gist. You won't find anything useful in that book. And they aren't symbols. They are wyrdmarks." 

"Right," Rion said, drawing out the word. He peered over her shoulder, and Evalin tried to block out the sudden scent of jasmine and chamomile that overwhelmed her with his closeness. "So what are you reading? It looks like... hey, it looks like the words on your-"

"Yes," Evalin said. "The Old Language. A language used amongst fae long ago. My father taught me the language growing up. I'm fluent." 

"Is Sam fluent as well?" Rion asked. Evalin nodded. 

"He is." 

"Huh," Rion said. Evalin was getting fidgety, practically feeling the warmth of his chest on her back, though they weren't touching. 

She shut the large book she had been reading with a sigh. "This is going to be difficult. I was never allowed to be _near_ wyrdmarks growing up. But I was curious. I always did what my mother told me _not_ to do. So, I found this old woman in a cottage outside my home city. Orynth. Not far outside the walls. She taught me how to read them." Evalin frowned. Saying she disobeyed whatever her mother warned her sounded silly out loud. But... it was just their relationship. Evalin couldn't think of a reason why, when she thought of it. It was her father she listened to. Aylin would only get angry when Evalin did something she wasn't supposed to. 

"Damn it, Evalin why won't you just _listen_ to me?" she had yelled once, in the sitting room of her chambers. She had recoiled at her voice, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Evalin had smiled as if she won. When her mother opened her eyes and saw her smile... she only shook her head, disappointment taking over. That disappointment had felt like a knife being thrown into her chest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. 

"Anyway," Evalin said, sliding the book aside and pulling herself from her thoughts. "All these spells, they're risky. Dangerous. Opening a portal is tricky. I can open a portal that will take me somewhere in Erilea. Or... outside of Erilea perhaps. But to a different realm?" Evalin turned so she was facing Rion. "I could accidentally open the gates of hell itself trying to do that. So... it will take time. It has to be perfect or I'll start another war. Something tells me my mother wouldn't be too happy about that." 

Rion gave her a wary look, raising a brow. "You said you were kept away from these marks... is there a reason or-"

"My parents are overprotective. There's nothing to worry about." 

"Oh. Okay. So accidentally opening the gates to hell isn't a big deal, or?" Rion said nonchalantly. When Evalin glared at him, he gave her a cheeky smile. 

She let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair. Rion was still looking into the book she had been reading. Evalin watched his dark eyelashes flutter as his eyes moved across the words, though Evalin knew he didn't know what they meant. "Want to take a break?" she asked. His lashes lifted as his beautiful blue-violet eyes met hers. She watched his full lips form a smile. And she found herself fighting a smile that itched to form.

Only half an hour later, they found themselves by the docks. Evalin liked coming by the docks. In Suria or otherwise. She liked the salty smell of the air. The gull of pelicans. The easy work of the sailors. At least at the docks, everyone was too busy to look up at her and see her for what she was. Different from everyone else. But somehow, walking next to Rion made her feel... better. Not so different as to- understood. 

When she looked over, he seemed perfectly at ease, looking around like a boy at the carnival. He didn't seem to worry about whispers or strange looks like she did. She looked away, almost not able to bear the sight. Something she longed to be. Careless. But then again, she grew up surrounded by his people. She had to grow up with children to pulled on her ears for fun. Children whose parents scolded them in fear of the Queen accusing them of children. They should know better. 

"It's beautiful," Rion said after they had been walking in silence for a few moments. Evalin nodded, the sun high in the sky, the occasional sound of a shout from a sailor to his crew. 

"I suppose. It's Rifthole. Dorian tried to make it better after the war. But... it still has its up and downs. Equal in both." 

"And Orynth doesn't?" Rion asked with a smile. 

Evalin grinned. Not at him, but in pride of her beautiful capital. A capital she hoped to one day rule. _Sam is older than half an hour_ , a voice in the back of her mind whispered. She slammed the door shut on the voice. "Not really. Orynth never had any slums. The worst of the city is... well not bad. At all." 

Rion hummed. He was wearing a black tunic, the shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hands in the pockets. Evalin had no idea where he got the new clothes, but she didn't ask. She made a mental note to take him shopping one of these days. A blush threatened to creep into her cheeks at the thought of standing in a male's boutique, while the tailor took his measurements. 

She wanted to slap herself silly. She had done so many sinful acts with a handful of men, she couldn't possibly begin why this one act had her acting like a schoolgirl. She peeked at Rion. She had done those acts with _men_. Never a male. She was about to chastise herself once again, and wonder how _clothes_ led to such thoughts, but then the image of Fenrys came into her mind. Standing at the bottom of the grand staircase in the ballroom back in Castle Galathynius. One hand outstretched the other in his pocket. All thoughts of sinful acts were gone. 

"You alright?" Rion asked. She realized she had stopped walking, and he was standing in front of her, hunching-however little it helped to level them-and studying her face with a concerned expression. She blinked. 

"Yeah. Of course-" She was cut off when a bulky figure walked past her from behind so fast, she almost stumbled to the side, falling to the ground. Rion was there in a second, catching her, her shoulder falling against his chest. He steadied her, before leveling a glare that could have been murder itself to the man who had just incidentally shoved her. 

"Apologize," Rion snarled, taking on a look Evalin hadn't seen on him before. 

The man froze. He was... well he was something. He wore a flat cap that covered the tops of his ears, and he had alarmingly vibrant hazel eyes. A small amount of stubble sprinkled his chin and jaw, and he had a straight nose that went symmetrically down his face. Although Evalin couldn't see most of his ears, she could see that in his right one, a small gold hoop was pierced into his earlobe. A scar split the arch of one of his brows, and a brown strand of hair had fallen out of his cap and across his forehead. His hair was long, but not _that_ long. She could see brown hair sticking out from the cap, curling at his earlobes, and mostly at the back of his neck. 

He was studying Rion's face, but he immediately looked to Evalin, apologetically. He smiled, showing off the straightest white teeth she had ever seen. "So sorry, lass. My fault. You alright?" He scrutinized her as if looking for any injury he caused. He looked almost like a sailor, wearing a white tunic, the stays in the front barely pulled together, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, his trousers high-waisted. 

Evelin's eyes widened slightly. She studied his sun-kissed skin. He had an accent. A distinct one. Not one from Erilea, that was for sure. The accent, it reminded her... of her father. But intensified ten times. Evelin's eyes darted to his cap covering his ears. He had only said a few words. He couldn't possibly have a Doranelle accent. It just wasn't-

The mysterious man glanced over his shoulder. 

"There he is!" a man exclaimed, trying to shove his way through a cluster of people. Several intimidating younger men followed him. "Stop him! That's the bastard that took my money. You come here boy!" he yelled. 

Mystery Man glanced back at Evalin and Rion, both looking bewildered. "Sorry lass. Sir. An honor to meet a princess," he said, winking at Evalin. "I've got to go. Pleasant evening ya have, the both of ya," he said, bowing slightly. Then he glanced once over his shoulder, smiled like a fox, and darted. So fast. Too fast for a man... 

Shouts came from across the way. The group of men that were after Mystery Man cursed as they ran past the two, Rion pulling Evalin out of the way and against his chest. Evalin quickly pulled away when the men were passed. 

"That was... interesting," Evalin muttered. Rion nodded his agreement. 

"Yeah," he said. He looked thoughtfully in the place Mystery Man had just been. "Did you smell him?" he asked. 

"Why on earth would I-"

"No. I mean... did he have a scent?" Rion reiterated. A crease formed between her brows as she realized, he didn't. 

"No. I didn't... I would have-"

"Exactly," Rion said. "That wasn't a man. That was a _male_." 

Evalin looked to where Rion was staring. He had hidden his scent somehow. If his scent were there, they would have known he was fae in an instant. That was a Doranelle accent. And he knew who Evalin was. That could either be very bad... or good. 

"So why are Doranelle trading routes and ship lanes cut off from coming to Erilea? I mean, I know they had a deadly queen from another realm that held demon kings but... that isn't exactly their fault is it?" Rion said, later in Evalin's chambers. They had taken many of the books back to her rooms and were now sitting in the sitting room, in front of a roaring fire. Evalin had a book open on her lap, a cup of tea in her hands. 

Rion was feeling a little passionate about his argument, considering the stories his father told him. When he got old enough. Of his time with Amarantha. No, not all those who were with the enemy were bad. Not exactly. 

"I agree," Evalin said, to Rion's relief. He wasn't sure _why_ he felt relief at her words. But he did. "It's just... my parents went through a lot. They all did. King Dorian, Chaol, all of them. Before we were born. They wanted to make peace with Doranelle, but there were so many of those who loved Maeve as a queen. Who were furious my mother killed her. My mother tried to hide her pregnancy for a long time. Both my parents did. For eight months she was shut away, and people started to wonder why the queen was hiding. But it was safer. Only my closest family knew. Including King Dorian," Evalin explained. 

"When she gave birth, she announced that she had sired two babies. A boy, and a girl," Evalin paused as if reliving the story. "The first assassination attempt happened when I was two." Rion shuddered. "The people of Doranelle were angry. Not all. A good amount was happy to be rid of their queen. But the supporters... they wanted to get back at my mother. They tried to kill me. In my nursery. My father skinned them alive." 

Rion's brows rose at this, though... he understood. A small thrill went through him at the words. 

"So... my mother cut off transportation from and to Terrasen. Dorian followed, and soon... all the other kings did the same in favor of my mother's orders. That didn't stop smugglers from bringing Doranelle civilians in, and the assassinations from being attempted, but it helped. Now, Sam and I are capable of taking care of ourselves, but we still need to be careful." Evalin paused. "I haven't... there hasn't been an assassination attempt on me in three years." A shudder went through her, and she closed her eyes as a memory overcame her. Rion watched patiently. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort her. But he did nothing. 

He thought back to the way he reacted when the male accidentally pushed her. The rage. A white-hot rage that he hadn't felt since the night with Dolos. The night he came to Erilea. Even before then, Rion didn't get angry often. He liked to think his temper could be easily tucked away, hard to raise. He liked to be calculated, like his father. But seeing Evalin stumble like that, he wanted to rip the male's head off. 

He shook that away. It was weird. He never felt that way with Seph. He didn't even know this female. 

Evalin opened her eyes and shrugged. "Perhaps he's harmless. Either way, I can protect myself. I'm not going to tell my uncle, or Dorian, or even Sam. You better not either." She sharpened her tone in the last part. 

Rion raised a brow. "Well if we aren't telling your peers, I suppose I will have to protect you," he said, voice thick with amusement. 

"I don't need protecting, batboy," Evalin said, raising her cup to her lips. 

"Oh I know, feisty little thing," Rion said. Evalin glared at him. 

" _I am not small_ ," she snapped. 

"Debatable." 

"I'll give you something to debate," she snarled. 

Rion just sighed in mock exasperation and stood, smoothing his tunic. "I should retire," he said. Evalin waved him away dismissively before a servant strode in with a tray. Evalin shot up in her seat, a huge grin splitting her face. The petite woman placed the tray on the table in front of Evalin and stood up, slowly walking away. Evalin removed the cover and smiled wickedly at a large piece of cake. 

"I don't think I've ever seen someone so excited over cake," Rion said quietly. 

"Then the people you surround yourself with have no class," Evalin said without looking at him, picking up a fork on the tray. 

"I was never allowed to have sweets growing up. Every now and then, but..." he shrugged, thinking about the Illyrian camps. Evalin didn't even seem to be listening to him. 

She peered up at him, hovering over her cake like a mother guarding her children. He grinned at her. 

"Enjoy your cake, Evalin," he said, before folding his hands behind his back and striding towards the door. 

"Do you want some?" Evalin asked, standing abruptly. 

Rion looked over his shoulder. Her cheeks were a tinge pink, and she was wringing her fingers. He could smell the sweat on her hands from where he stood. He cocked his head to the side. 

"I don't... usually share my cake with others," she said, almost grudgingly, looking as if she regretted saying anything. "But you look like you haven't tasted the best chocolate cake in Erilea, so." She shrugged. 

Rion found himself smiling. "Alright, he said, walking back over and sitting in his original place." 

"You get a quarter," Evalin said defensively. 

Rion laughed with his whole chest and watched as the pink on her cheeks darkened. She let her silver hair fall over her face as she cut the cake. They stayed like that for a while, talking idly and reading from some of the books they borrowed from the library. Until Evalin fell asleep on the chaise. Rion had grabbed the comforter from her bed and draped it over her, watching her peaceful face for a moment. 

She looked beautiful, he realized. When she wasn't scowling, or scrunching up her face, and locking down her walls. She barely looked like she did now. Only when she got those faraway looks. He reached down and tucked a strand of silver hair behind her delicately pointed ears. She shifted slightly, a small smile on her full, pink lips. She was having a good dream. He took this time to memorize every inch of her face. That beautifully printed tattoo on her cheekbone, her white brows. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could picture them. Turquoise ringed with gold. He noticed now that her skin took on a golden glow. He admired her. 

"Goodnight, Eva," Rion whispered, liking the sound of her new nickname on his lips. He left her chambers, closing the door behind him with a soft click, and striding down the hallway, towards his chambers. 


	7. Myths or Legends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was OVERWHELMED writing this chapter, but I also had a lot of fun doing it. Enjoyyyy

"Fuck!" Sam yelled, throwing his sword down and kicking it away, driving one of his fists into the nearest wall, puncturing a deep hole.

Rhoe watched, unimpressed. "Well, that's one way to let your anger out," he mumbled. 

Sam's nostrils flared, his eyes filled with pure rage as he stared at his fist embedded in the wall. He had been sparring with Rhoe when Rhoe had kicked his feet from under him and knocked him down. Almost easily. Sam had gotten back up, raising two swords, one in each hand, but Rhoe had knocked one out, sending it skidding across the floor. This had angered Sam. But he came in, his usually perfect golden hair disheveled, dark crescent moons under his eyes, reeking of ale. 

Sam shut his eyes, slowly pulling his fist out of the wall and leaning his forehead against the wall. "My apologies," he muttered, the anger dissipating, turning into something else. 

"You have my father's temper," Rhoe said, almost amused. He didn't share that temper with them. If anything, he took after his mother. In almost every trait, except for his eyes. And size. "What happened?" 

"I fucked up." 

"With?" Rhoe asked. 

"Do you want to know?" Sam asked. 

Rhoe paused, looking Sam up and down. "Not really, but if it will make you less agitated, tell me," he mumbled. Sam let out a long sigh and turned around so his back was against the wall. He slid down to the floor. Rhoe sat next to him. "Is it about Rion?" he asked quietly. 

"No!" Sam spat, his anger flaring again. "I couldn't care less about that arrogant fool courting my sister," he said, an obvious lie. Rhoe had to sit back while Sam ranted about how there was something off about him. About how he didn't trust him and didn't like how he was spending so much alone time with Evalin. Rhoe had a theory that it was because Rion was a fae male. After all, Evalin had been so obvious about her lovers before, and Sam hadn't cared, only expressed how he didn't want to know about her latest endeavor. But those had been _men_. Rion was very new territory. For the both of them. 

He tried to think back on his parents' relationship. His aunt and uncle. Rowan never really acted protective per se... if anything it was the other way around. His father sometimes acted territorial over his mother. He wondered if that was normal behavior for siblings. The thoughts frustrated him. He wasn't familiar with what his aunt Aelin would call territorial fae bastard behavior. He pulled himself out of his thoughts. 

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "Lane has yet to come to visit..." 

If it wasn't about Evalin's newest friend, then that had to be it. Judging by the way Sam grew paler and caught onto a mortified look, he judged he was right. 

"What did you do?" he asked immediately. 

"I..." Sam glanced at Rhoe, who raised his eyebrows. He looked embarrassed. Oh shit. 

"So you two train in here every day, huh?" a dark, velvety voice that rumbled Rhoe's bones said, echoing in the training room. 

Rion strode in, his hands clasped behind his tailbone. He inspected the room, before noticing the two of them sitting against the wall. He seemed to take in the look on their faces but acted oblivious. He heard the conversation, Rhoe thought glumly. Not that he cared. Sam sure as hell didn't. Rhoe couldn't help but admire Rion himself. He _was_ awfully handsome. Something told him that he wasn't exactly the male's type, though. 

Sam was glaring blatantly at Rion, but it only seemed to feed the males amusement. "Yeah," Rhoe said. "We try. Sometimes Evalin joins us. Where is she, by the way?" Sam seemed to bristle at the fact Rhoe was assuming Rion knew where she was. He ignored the male. Sam might have his suspicions, but Rhoe had no problem with Rion. If anything, he had been nothing but polite. Maybe a little... sure of himself. But Rhoe always thought all fae males had a way of admiring themselves. Even Rhoe couldn't help but notice the way Rion's muscles shifted beneath his fine clothes. 

"Huh," Rion said. 

"I doubt _you_ have any combat training," Sam said, the venom clear in his voice. 

Rion looked at him. It looked like he would laugh at any second. But he didn't. "I know a thing or two," he said softly. Then he turned to Rhoe. "I believe Evalin is asleep, though I am not completely sure. I didn't want to disturb her. Something tells me she would burn certain areas I treasure should I try before she's ready to wake up." He smiled as if playing out the very scene in his head. 

Sam's nostrils flared. Rhoe sent him a warning look. Rion's eyes lit up at the look on Sam's face. Oh, he was enjoying this. 

"Did you guys see it?" Rin yelled, running into the training room, a single paper in her hand. 

Sam's glare fell and he glanced at Rin with raised brows. "See what?" 

Rin jumped up and down. "The Reaper killed again! Oh, how exceptionally exciting! Last night, he killed a particularly rich merchant. In his bed! His wife woke up _while_ he was being killed. She said that the damned prick _apologized_ before leaving the bedroom." Rin laughed. 

Rhoe and Sam exchanged glances. Rin had a weird obsession with the assassin the citizens of Rifthold called _The Reaper_. He had been active for quite a while. Probably around ten years, if Rhoe thought about it. 

"He apologized to the wife?" Rhoe asked. "Did she see his face?" Rin shook her head. 

"Nope. Said he was wearing the same thing as always. Black face mask, hood, cape, skin-tight gear. He slit the poor bastard's throat. Woke up choking on his blood. The wife woke up just as The Reaper was leaving. Said he looked over one shoulder, said he was sorry, and left," Rin explained. "That's one way to get your husband's fortune, I suppose." 

"Did you get a look at the records or something? And it just happened last night?" Sam asked. 

Rin perked up. "Yeah! My father received the papers. While he was in a meeting with Chaol and Aedion, and all those other unforgettable old men, I snuck into his study and looked."

"Rin," Rhoe said, letting out a long sigh and running his hand over his face. "You have _got_ to stop doing that." 

"How strange," Rion said. Rin practically jumped out of her skin. She smiled when she realized Rion was there. 

"Hello, Orion," she said, using a saccharine voice. Rion smiled at her. 

"Hello, Asterin," he said, just as charming. 

Sam rolled his eyes. Those two would make a very chaotic duo. Though Rion certainly wasn't as mad as Rin. The only trait he seemed to share was her endless charm. "What's strange?" Rhoe asked. 

Rion looked up at him. "That he apologized. I mean, he's empathetic. This was a hired job." 

"Well, yeah. He's an assassin. He works for the Assassin's Guild, though his identity remains unknown. King Dorian's been trying to take down the Assassin's Guild for years. Our whole lives. He can never get around to it. He can't exactly prove that they're to blame for all these assassinations. And the leader has a _lot_ of money. They all do," Rhoe explained. 

A crease formed between Rion's perfect brows. "It's not against the law here?" 

"It's complicated. When the Guild has been around for almost a hundred years, it's not exactly easy to get rid of. They're very discreet, staying out of everyone's business. But Dorian knows they exist," Rhoe said. 

"Well, _duh_ ," Rin spat. "Sam's mother was the _Queen of Assassins_ at one point. And before that, she was Celaena Sardothien. The best assassin in all of Erilea!" Rin jumped up and down and clapped her hands together. 

Rion cocked one eyebrow up at that. "She _was_?" he asked incredulously. 

"Rin," Sam snapped, but Rin ignored him. 

"She sure was! I look up to her, you know. Er, I mean after my mother of course. Not to brag but... my mother _is_ probably the most powerful and strong witch of like, all time, so..." She grinned to herself. "Anyway, Aelin was a lot of things back in her day. Witch killer-" Rin paused, frowning, before continuing. "Assassin, champion of the King's competition. The old one. Oh! Sir Rowan calls her this all the time. Fire-breathing b-"

"That's _enough_ ," Sam boomed. 

Rin stopped, looking at him. Rhoe shot him an annoyed look. He was usually proud of his mother. But Rin was telling Rion special details Sam might have preferred him not to know, though Rhoe couldn't possibly guess why. Rion, on the other hand, looked delighted to hear all the gory details of the woman who gave birth to the twins. 

"Sorry, Sam," Rin said, a serious note coming into her voice. All humor and madness left. Her eyes cleared. 

"Rin?" a small, meek voice sounded from the doorway. 

Rin looked up. They all did. Lane stood there, her arms hugging herself. She pointedly avoided looking at Sam, a blush creeping up her neck. 

"Lane?" Rin asked, her face full of concern. 

Rion studied Sam, who was staring at Lane as if willing her to look at him. Practically begging of it silently. She didn't. 

"Evalin... um, I'm worried about her," Lane whispered. 

That had Rion's attention. He beat Sam to it. "Why? What's happened?" he asked. 

Rhoe cocked his head at the complete change in Rion's demeanor. How strange. 

"Well, she told me not to tell anyone but... um- well she told me to tell Orion to meet her in..." Lane did meet Sam's gaze then. "She told me to come to find Orion and to meet her at the edge of Oakwald Forest." Lane cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "But- uh..." 

Sam was looking at Rion beneath lowered brows now. Rion smiled pleasantly. "Did she now?" he asked, his usual charm creeping into his voice. 

Rin's eyes widened with maddening delight. "I'm going with you," Sam declared. 

"Trust me, brother, I don't think you want to come with me," Rion said, amusement dancing in his eyes. Sam would have lunged at him had Rhoe not put a subtle hand on his chest. 

" _I am not your brother_ ," Sam snapped. 

The smile disappeared from Rion's face. He looked away. Was he hurt? No. Not by Sam's words. He looked almost... nostalgic. As if he was stuck in a memory. "No," he agreed. "You are not." Rhoe wondered if Rion did have a brother, and his own words reminded him of the male. He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I must go. Wouldn't want Eva to make good on those earlier threats I talked about." 

Sam bristled at the new nickname. Rion walked away from them all, flashing Lane a friendly smile before brushing past her and disappearing down the hall. Rin's small smile disappeared, replaced by something angry. 

"Do you have to be such a brute?" she snapped at Sam, with so much venom Rhoe heard Manon Blackbeak. 

"What? We're just going to let him linger in Oakwald Forest alone with my sister?" Sam shot back. 

" _Yes!_ " Rin exclaimed. "That is exactly what we are going to do." 

"Why?" he asked incredulously. 

" _Because Evalin is happy!_ " Rin yelled. A small laugh escaped her, and her eyes took on a glossy sheen. "She is _happy_. I have no idea what those two are up to... but you need to stop acting like a mother hen. Because for once, she is not just a shell of a girl. Don't take this away from her, Sam or so help me gods I _will_ kill you." 

Lane flinched by the doorway, taking a step back. 

Sam looked at Rin incredulously. 

"So what if he's just a distraction? When is the last time you saw Evalin so _motivated_ by something? Maybe I'm sick of seeing her take her anger and grief out through a sword." Rin shrugged. "Let's just hope he's not Fenrys all over again. Yeah?" 

That time, Sam flinched. His eyes took on their glassy sheen. Rin knew she went too far. 

"How could you even say that?" Sam whispered. 

Rin parted her lips, but nothing came out. She tucked a raven strand of hair behind her ear. "Sam-" 

But he was shoving Rhoe off of him, stalking past her. Lane reached out a hand when he came closer, but he completely ignored her, disappearing down the hall. Rhoe gave Rin a withering glare, and she ignored him, guilt clouding her features. 

"There's too many fucking emotions in this room," she muttered, leaving as well. 

A minute passed. It was just Rhoe and Lane. Lane looked up at him from across the room. Rhoe let out another sigh. "Come on, Lane. Have you ever learned how to make ale?" he asked, walking towards her. A hesitant smile lit up her beautiful features as she followed Rhoe down the hall. 

Amren was quiet for a long while. Mara waited patiently. She only wished Amren didn't look so expressionless. She couldn't tell what the woman was thinking. 

"So," she said quietly. "That foolish male is stuck on the outside. And instead of informing your father... you want to go after him yourself. Why?" Amren lifted her gaze. 

Mara idly placed a hand on her covered leg. The one with her bargain tattoo on it. "Because," she said, looking away. "I want my brother back." 

"Horse shit," Amren said flatly. Her eyes dropped to Mara's leg. "What did you give it, girl? What did you gain?" she asked. Mara met her gaze but said nothing. "You want it back. Whatever you gave up. So what? You leave the let's say the bargain's magic doesn't work in this other realm. What then? Once you come back it will only come back." Mara dipped her chin. Amren's eyes gleamed. "Ah. You don't plan on coming back. What is so important, huh girl?" 

"I want my brother back," Mara repeated. 

Amren tsked. "If you told me what you gave up... I might be able to help." 

"The only help _I want_ ," Mara said harshly. "Is getting into Cretea. How do I do it?" 

"You can't." 

"There must be a way. All magic is breakable. No matter how difficult that may be or how powerful," Mara argued. 

"You don't need to go to Cretea." 

"If I want to get Orion back then-"

"You don't need to go to Cretea... because the Cauldron isn't there," Amren said patiently. 

Mara's eyes widened. "What? Where? How-"

"There was a dilemma... right after Orion was born, as a matter of fact. Your parents were so happy. I've never seen your father so... distracted. Feyre wouldn't stop crying every two seconds. She would just have to look at your brother, and-" Amren cut herself off, shaking her head. "Anyway. The human queens that no longer are, they wanted that Cauldron. Of course, it was safe in Cretea. But... Rhys decided it belonged in Prythian, for whatever reason. I suppose because every time we needed it most, we could barely contact the damn rulers of that island. So when we finally did get it back, he decided the Cauldron stays here. Of course, nobody should abuse its power. But hey, if we have to protect our continent and we have something as powerful as that? Why not? Just don't let it fall into the right hands, everyone said. Is Rhys the right one to have practical ownership over the thing? I suppose. I'm not the one to say." 

"Amren," Mara said slowly. "Where is the damned pot?" 

Amren lifted her silver eyes to meet Mara's mismatched ones. "Girl, isn't it obvious? The Cauldron is where any enemy would least expect it to be. It's right in the center of the damned court. Hewn City. So obvious. Filled with monsters and evil minds who dislike foreigners. Completely oblivious. Who would hide the most powerful thing in the world in plain sight? Exactly. Nobody would. Except, Rhys. Stupid. But smart, because nobody has figured it out after all these years." 

Mara stared at Amren with wide eyes. She hadn't been back in Hewn City since she was seven. Nobody forced her to go. She never asked. Never wanted to go. And now she had to. The Cauldron had been there the entire time. Her whole life. 

"What I gave up..." Mara shook her head. "I can _never_ get back. It is not a simple item or something I can hold. And I fear... I fear one day if the ice around my heart thaws... I might not be able to-" Mara closed her eyes. Amren cocked her head to the side. 

"Girl," she said slowly. "What did you give?" 

Mara opened her eyes. She took a deep breath and told Amren. 

It took Rion quite some time to find Evalin. He wandered the edge of the forest, walking aimlessly until he could catch her scent in the air. Once he did, it was easy. She was leaning against a tree, in her usual attire that Rion was afraid to admit would be the death of him, and flipping a dagger in her hand. 

"It's about damn time," she said when he approached, without looking up. 

"Darling, not that I dislike rendezvous, because sneaking away into a forest with you does sound rather appealing, but may I ask? What in the Mother are we doing?" he asked. "I don't think this is one of my fantasies playing out." 

Evalin smiled, half amusement, half disgust showing on her face. "Pervert." 

"Hm," he hummed, shooting her an expectant look. 

"So I was sorting through some of the books this morning, and I found a map," Evalin said, pushing off the tree she was leaning against and reaching into her pocket. Her voice had gone up an octave or two with excitement. He stepped behind her and leaned over her shoulder, his chest almost touching her back, as she unfolded the very old-looking piece of paper she had. He watched as she hesitated, turning her head and glancing at him. Their faces were so close. All he had to do was move an inch forward and...

Her usual fierceness drifted away. As he looked down at her parted lips, her eyes took on a doe-like look. She looked up at him innocuously. He didn't quite understand the sudden pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He smiled devilishly when a blush crossed her cheeks. She cleared her throat, turning her face away and looking down at the map, her hands shaking slightly. Then, they both beheld the map. 

"It was in an old book on wyrdmarks. And this place, it's here in Oakwald," she said, taking her fingertip and circling the ring of trees. marked and circled on the map looked to be some sort of opening to a cave. There was an aerial view, and Evalin pointed to where they are. 

"You do realize," Rion whispered, liking how she shuddered against his breath against the skin of her neck. Granted, he was hunching to be this close to her, bending his knees slightly. "That this could take all day to find. Perhaps _weeks_. If this is where our answers lie... we would have to come here every day. Just the two of us. Alone. For hours," he said. 

Evalin had gone rigid. He couldn't see her face, for her hair had drifted from behind her ears, curtaining her. He smiled, waiting. 

Then he blinked, and Evalin was whipping around, grabbing his forearm and turning him around roughly. She shoved him against the nearest tree, his cheek hitting the bark in an unpleasant way. She twisted his arm behind his back, a groan escaping his lips. 

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" Evalin boomed, her voice full of rage and incredulity. Rion had to fight the urge to laugh. "Are the fae from _Prythian_ always so impertinent and... and..."

"Horny?" Rion finished. "Well, yes, actually-"

That earned him another twist of his arm in an unnatural angle. He let out another groan. He could easily winnow. Overpower her. Kill her with the snap of his fingers. But he did none of that. He was quite enjoying this.

"Well, stop it!" she yelled. "We are here to do one thing, and you're getting on my nerves. I do not care what you do with your free time but when we're finished here I recommend making your way to a _brothel_ instead of bothering _me_!" she snapped. "Got it?" 

"And will you give me money for said brothel?" Rion asked a slight teasing to his voice.

Evalin scoffed in disgust, before giving him another shove against the tree and letting go. "Let's go before I gut you," she muttered. 

Rion straightened his tunic and watched her walk away, her boots crunching against dry leaves. He let out a sigh. Candor would like her. The thought came so suddenly and out of nowhere, that it caught him by surprise. But then he found himself smiling, and following the small female. 

"Hewn City?" Ailith asked, doubt written into her voice.

Everyone glanced up as she stalked into the room. She was late. And had just arrived. Candor's jaw dropped. Amyria couldn't contain her smile. Mara cocked her head to the side. Lilith's hair had been put up in a bun, with strands coming to frame the sides of her face, pronouncing her sharp cheekbones. But what had them all staring was that she shaved the underside of her scalp. 

"Badass," Amyria said, nodding her approval. 

Ailith rolled her eyes. "Explain," she demanded of Mara. 

All she had said was that the Cauldron was actually in Hewn City after all. So, she took a deep breath and explained what Amren had told her. To all of them. She glanced at Amyria once or twice to gauge her reaction to her talking to her mother, but if Amyria was angry or conflicted, she didn't show. Seph had listened so intently, Mara almost sniped at her not to hurt herself. Apollas leaned against the mantel in Candor's sitting room, his arms crossed over his chest, his face stony. 

He suddenly let out a dramatic sigh and ran a hand through his auburn hair. "Why must life be oh so complicated yet so easy?" he asked, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Alright then. What's stopping us from going under that damned mountain right now and jumping in the damned thing? I must admit I just bathed but I will risk another." 

Seph shot Apollas a small smile before nodding in agreement. 

"Amren said it's glamoured. Hidden. We have to _find_ it in the maze of those monsters," Mara explained. 

"Careful Mara, you almost sound scared," Amyria said, arching a manicured brow. 

No. She was incapable of fear. That would require emotions. That didn't mean the part of herself the darkness commanded she lock away wasn't quivering in a corner in her mind, begging the darkness not to do this. Not to take her there. She hissed at that weak little girl to shut her damned mouth. The darkness chuckled in her ear. She told it to shut up as well. 

Sometimes, it seemed the dark powers she was accustomed to had a mind of its own. Not like the shadows whispered to Azriel. She wasn't a shadow-singer. But... it said things to her. Awful things. In the dead of night, when she seemed to be the only one in the world awake...

 _What if Orion died? Would you become a high lady then? Shall we test this theory? You could be so powerful... you could take over the other courts if that is what you truly wanted_ , the darkness had said now night. Mara had shaken her head. She would never harm her beloved brother. Would she? 

But Rion was gone now. And the darkness was trying to reason what good opportunity this brought her. 

_Leave him to the wolves_ , it whispered in her ear. 

Mara almost asked her father one night if the dark spoke to him. If it planted such horrid, evil thoughts in his mind. But looking at his face, the way he laughed at such a crude joke Orion would make, pride written all over his face, her mother gaping at Orion in shock, she knew. Her father didn't suffer the same things she did. Not as she watched him glance at her mother, with such awe and love on his face. She would never look at someone like that. Worse, nobody would ever look at _her_ like that. 

_Then why are you trying to reverse the bargain?_ The darkness asked her. _I am the only thing that could ever love you._

Please. Go away, she silently begged. 

She took a deep breath, realizing everyone in the room was staring at her. These peers, the ones she grew up with. A sudden thought occurred. It irked her. Do they think me mad, she thought. Do they care? Have they ever noticed how she would sometimes wander off in her mind, plagued by the devil himself? The devil is a myth, she reminded herself. They didn't care. It was Orion they all cared about. Orion they preferred. She could see it written all over their faces. It was always Orion. Never her. And who could blame them? It was Orion they wanted. So, Orion, they shall get. 

"We go tonight," she said. Candor's eyes widened. "We find the cauldron. We go get Orion. We leave. Tonight." 

"So soon?" Candor asked, speaking up, his raspy husk of a voice filling the room. "Mara, have you any idea how we will even get back?" 

"I will not spend time brainstorming. That is a bridge we will have to cross when we get to it. I am not a seer, Candor. I cannot look into this realm as if looking into a looking glass. The only way we can figure out our way back is by going _in_. And I'm done waiting. I am leaving tonight with or without you. Now are you with me or not?" Mara looked them each in their eye. 

_Spoken like a true leader_ , the darkness whispered into her ear. _So beautiful._

Go away, Mara snapped viciously. 

She had woken from a strange dream that morning. She hadn't remembered the last time she dreamed since before last night. She didn't dream. But she did. 

She was standing in a foreign place, on a pier. Looking out at the ocean. The stars shone brightly above her, in the sky. The water sloshed lazily, the only sound filling the space. She turned around. There was a tall man. No. Male. Mara's eyes darted to his carefully pointed ears. She realized she was crying. She didn't cry. Hot, salty tears were running down her cheeks. She couldn't see the male's face, since he was hidden in shadows, but he made to move towards her. She put her hand up. 

" _Stop_ ," she choked out. He did. The moonlight lit up his features. He was handsome. Mara noted the scar splitting his brow at the arch. The piercings in his ears. A thick gold hoop in his lobe on one ear. On both, there were piercings in his cartilage. Kohl lined his eyes. 

"Mara..." he breathed. 

She shook her head, the tears falling heavy. "You promised." She let her hand fly to her mouth. "You promised... not to break my heart." 

"I know," he said, almost frantically. Panic clouded his features. That's when he started walking towards her. She shook her head but he didn't stop. "Mara, I know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry-"

Everything happened so fast. He paused, inches away from her. His mouth fell open, lips parting. Mara looked up at him, and slowly, so slowly, her eyes traveled down. What she took in was... it was a horrid scene. She hadn't realized she was holding a dagger. The same dagger now embedded in his chest. She looked back up at him. He let out a pained choke. 

"The darkness told me to do it," she whispered. "You broke my heart. So now I have to break yours." Her voice sounded monologue. Void of emotion. His eyes filled with pain and betrayal. Mara's lips curled back into a smile, just as she twisted the knife. 

She had jolted up from bed, gasping for breath that had left her lungs. She was confused. So confused. She had never seen that male in her entire life. It was nonsense. She couldn't stop replaying the dream over and over again. How she had twisted the dagger in his chest. How he had looked at her with such sadness. With hurt. She had paced around her room for an hour trying to wrap her mind around the randomness of it. Trying to place the male. The male with kohl around his eyes. She only knew sailors to do such a thing. Or theatrical actors. He certainly didn't look theatrical. 

"What was that?" she had demanded to nothing in particular. If the darkness had planted the bizarre dream, it did not whisper of such acts. It didn't give her knowledge, anyway. It only told her what to do sometimes. It told her to do wretched things. 

"Mara!"

She flinched, blinking and looking around. They were all staring at her. Ailith had called her out of her head. The dream was left forgotten, along with the fae male who looked as sly as a fox without trying. 

"Sorry," she whispered. 

"Where did you go?" Ailith whispered. 

Mara looked at her, tilting her head back. Ailith towered over her, but Mara didn't like to think of herself as small. She was taller than most females. Far from Amren's height. No, Amyria had taken on that trait, looking horrendous next to Candor. But also like Amren, Amyria's height was nothing to misinterpret. She wasn't wicked like Ailith could be. She wasn't numb and icy cold like Mara. She was... hot. Blazing hot. A comet. 

"Nowhere. We move tonight. I want to wait until my father is asleep." She nodded. At least, she _hoped_ her beast of a father would sleep. Along with her mother. Her other half gagged. 

_You hush_ , she snapped at her. 

"And what do we tell the others?" Apollas asked incredulously. "When we have _all_ gone missing and it is too much of a coincidence after Orion for them to simply ignore?" 

"We won't be here to find out, so. Problem solved," Mara said flatly. 

"He's right, Mara. My father will tear this court apart," Seph protested. 

Mara leveled her with a glare. "Then don't go." 

"Mara," Ailith said sharply. Mara glanced at her, and let out a breath through her nostrils. 

The room fell quiet. She nodded. "Tomorrow night, then. And that's final." 

"Who's the Reaper?" Rion asked, holding his hand out for Evalin to take. They had been walking through the woods for an hour, and he had just climbed to the top of a steep hill. Evalin ignored his hand, to his sudden amusement, and grunted as she pulled herself up. Ignoring his grin, she walked past him. 

"Who told you about that guy?" 

"Rin." 

"Right. Rin's obsession with him. He's an assassin. The most talented, and worst one of the bunch." 

"Assassins... are normal here? You're just okay with it?" 

"Dorian can't shut the Assassin's Guild down. They've been running since before his father. Hard situation. But yes, most are aware of them. Not their identities, though. My mother knows who is the current leader. The king, if you will. But she couldn't name all the occupants. Gods know how many recruits have been added since her time," Evalin said, shoving tree branches out of her way and stepping over roots. 

"So the Reaper..." 

"Right. Well, I suppose he's my mother's legacy," she said flatly. "Back when my mother was the most feared assassin of Erilea, she went by Celaena Sardothien. Not her real name-"

"Wait. Celaena as in... Lane?" Rion asked. 

Evalin gave him a pointed look over her shoulder. "Long story between her and..." Evalin let out a long sigh. "Chaol Westfall of all people. I seriously can't imagine my mother with someone that has such a gigantic fucking stick up his ass. Not that I don't love him. Anyway-" She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "The Reaper has been active since I was a little girl. The bodies that are discovered in his wake... some of them are gruesome. Beyond gruesome. Your nightmares would have nightmares. And others are clean. Easy. I can't figure the man out. Dorian sure as hell can't. But it's not like he can _do_ anything about it." 

She caught Rion cocking his head, following her silently and processing her words. 

"Not all kings have _all_ the power. Both fortunately and unfortunately," Evalin added. 

"I suppose that's true enough," he muttered thoughtfully. 

Evalin didn't say anything, jumping over a particularly big root, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath their boots the only sound. Rion watched her, his head cocked to the side. His eyes went over her back, her waist, and then he forced himself to look away. Evalin looked over her shoulder, at him through her lashes. He couldn't stop himself from swallowing loudly. Evalin smiled, before continuing. 

Mara had winnowed into the townhouse at the head of Velaris. The one her father once resided in before he constructed the lakeside manor for her mother. The townhouse remained empty. Nobody lived in it. It was a place for Mara and Orion to escape whenever they needed to. Never at the same time. But Mara wasn't looking for an escape. 

She headed straight for the attack and paused when she came face to face with a portrait that could have been her reflection, save for a few details. 

A smiling young female, with the same sparkling violet eyes as her father, and her raven-dark hair tumbling down her shoulders in waves. She looked so happy, with points peeking over her shoulders. Wings. The only thing this female didn't share with Mara, was one vibrant blue eye, the freckles, and they had a different face shape. 

Mara cocked her head to the side. Her father's sister. 

She remembered a time, when she was fifteen, and couldn't sleep. She could see candlelight coming from the direction of her father's study. Probably staying up late, finishing work he could never avoid no matter how hard he often tried. So Mara quietly walked over, pushing the door wider open so she could walk in. Her father, looking calm, had looked up at her. Immediately his eyes had widened and he shot up from his chair, looking bewildered. Mara had furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, never seeing her father react in such a way. But a second later his shoulders had relaxed and he had let out a sigh. 

"Mara," he had said softly. "It's you." 

And she had wondered who else she would be. But later, when she ventured to the townhouse and into the attic when she had seen the portrait, she knew. He saw her. He saw his sister. And it had startled him. Because she was dead. It was strange. How alike they were. They were both on the thin side. From what Mara could see of the portrait. Their collar-bones stuck out sharply in the same way. Their cheekbones were just the same regal-looking and sharp. 

But she was smiling in the portrait. Not too much. Painters hated that. But her full taupe lips were turned up, her eyes wrinkling slightly at the corners. Mara couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled like that and meant it. 

She walked past the portrait, towards a gigantic chest in the corner. She flipped open the top, letting it thunk to the ground. Mara looked down at the contents. He aunts old things. Untouched. But what she was looking for... she picked up the black leather trousers. Illyrian leathers. Her aunt's Illyrian leathers. 

"Well? How was it? Do you feel like a _male_?" she'd asked Rion, smirking and leaning against his doorframe. He had paused, his whole frame going rigid. He was turned away from her. She furrowed her brows. "Rion?" He turned around and stalked for her. She gasped, getting ready to flee. But he didn't attack her as she first thought. He grabbed her in an embrace, burying his face in her hair. She had stood there, shocked. 

"I missed you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. Mara had hugged him back, his leathers taut beneath her arms. He never told her what happened in those camps. She never asked. 

Now, she felt as if she didn't deserve to wear these leathers. 

_You aren't a real Illyrian_ , a young male once said to her. She was with Nesta, visiting Cassian at Windhaven camp. Her wings were out, and all the males were staring at her, hunger in their eyes and murder on their minds. And then that male said that to her. Deep inside, it struck true. But she showed no emotion on her face. She only cocked her head to the side. 

_You aren't a real Illyrian._

"Don't listen to the simple-minded bastards, Mara. They only think with one body part," Nesta had said, straight-backed, and glaring at any male who dared look her way. "You are a part of something so much greater." 

That had made Mara bring a hand to her forehead, where her upside crescent moon tattoo lay. Nesta gave her a small smile before her cold, hard layer clicked back into place. 

Now, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she dropped the leathers and began to peel the dress she was currently wearing off. When the leathers were on, fitted perfectly, and working as a second-skin, she took a look at herself in the mirror. Her raven-hair came down her back and shoulders in waves. And her freckles shone in the moonlight like a constellation on her face. Her father would have an absolute heart-attack if he saw her. She made a note to avoid him. No need for him to think himself mad and seeing his dead sister walk around the old townhouse. 

She went into her mind and cracked the door open. Just a crack. Blinking, she looked around the room, and then back at the mirror. A warmth she didn't feel often swept through her. She looked down at her leg, where she knew a bargain tattoo lay under the leather. 

" _Mara_ what did you do?" Mor demanded in the inn that night. "Fuck. _Fuck._ Your parents are going to kill me. I had _one_ job. Tell me what you gave up. Was it worth it? Damn it say something!" 

She was fifteen. She just smiled slowly, and Mor grew pale, losing that golden glow she always had. 

"Power," she said softly. "I asked for power." 

Now, she rested a hand on her stomach. Stupid. Stupid, decision. A feeling of sadness swept through her, and she had to cover her mouth to stop a choked sob from coming out. It wasn't what she gained that mattered. It was what she lost. And it was tearing her apart on the inside. 

She slammed the door back shut, ignoring the pleading cries echoing in her mind. The sadness left. And she was left with more numbness in its wake. "Let's do this," she whispered. 

"What the hell am I looking at?" Rion asked, squinting at the giant moss-covered boulder. All color had drained from Evalin's face. 

"It-it should be right here!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "No..." 

Rion looked over at her, his frown dissipating. He reached over to squeeze her shoulder, and at her glare, he dropped his hand. "It's here. We'll find it, okay?" he said in his best reassuring voice. It only intensified the look on her face that told him he was getting punched any second. He cleared his throat. "Okay then," he muttered, before walking around the boulder. 

Evalin shook her head and let out a sigh. "What the hell?" she whispered when Rion was out of earshot. 

"Look closer, little fire," a voice called. 

Evalin whirled around with a gasp and looked around with wide eyes. 

_Little fire._

"Well, it's not over there," Rion said, coming back to stand beside her. He caught the look on her face. "You okay, love?" he asked. 

"I'm fine," she muttered. Then frowned. "And don't call me that." 

Rion shot her a devilish smirk. She burned holes into his skin with the fire in her eyes, clenching her jaw. 

"You are so lovely when you're angry," he let out a sigh of admiration. She rolled her eyes. 

"And you are a giant child-" Evalin froze, looking past his shoulder. 

"A child?" he asked incredulously. "Well, I suppose to a male or female that is quite into their immortality I _am_ a child. And how about you Eva? Are you a-"

"Shut up," she snapped. 

"I was just getting to my conclusion-"

"I said shut up," she hissed. He frowned as if catching onto her conspiratorial tone. He glanced over his shoulder, where she was looking. 

"What is it?" he whispered. 

Evalin walked past him, rounding the moss-covered boulder, with Rion close behind. There was a thick curtain of ivy, and most would assume there was just more rock behind the curtain. Evalin pushed the vines to the side and was met with darkness. Rion looked from behind her, seeing easily above her head. She craned her neck to look at him, frowning at the height difference. He smiled down at her. 

"Clever little thing," he muttered. 

"Don't make me hit you," she snapped. His grin widened, and she shook her head, trudging forward into the darkened cave.

She was about to conjure her flame in one hand when light flared. Evalin looked over her shoulder. Rion was holding a little ball of light in one hand. It looked like the sunlight itself. He shot her a smile and she rolled her eyes. 

"Whatever," she muttered, before continuing. 

"What is it we're supposed to be looking for again?" he asked. 

"Whatever seems interesting. The book only had the map. Nothing else. No reason to come here." 

"And if we find nothing?" 

"Then I've spent far too long dealing with you all for shit," she said easily. Rion grunted behind her, and she found herself smiling. 

The only sound filling the walls of the cavern was their boots against stone, and their breathing. It was so quiet, the outside world far away. At least Evalin thought it was. They had been walking for quite some time, and still; Nothing. She was about to burst when-

"Eva," Rion said suddenly, his voice distant. Evalin turned around to realize the light was dim, Rion a few feet back. She walked over to him, to see he was squinting at the wall. 

"What?" she asked, unable to keep the irritation from her voice. 

"Look." He nodded at the wall. She grabbed his wrist and held the light closer. He smiled down at her and she ignored him. There were carvings on the wall. So many of them. 

"Wow," she breathed when she saw them. They were everywhere. "Did we miss some far back?" 

"No. I've been looking. This is where they begin," he said. 

The writing was in the Old Language. But there were also symbols. A snowflake, a leaf, a fox, and a starfish. The sun, the moon, and a half-submerged sun, with a half-submerged moon under it. 

"What are these?" Evalin whispered. When she looked up, Rion was staring at the symbols with wide eyes. His skin was pale. "Rion?" 

"They're the courts," he breathed. "Of Prythian." 

"What? No, that's impossible," Evalin looked back at the carvings. Seven symbols. Seven courts. "It can't be. How?" 

"What does it say?" he asked abruptly. 

Evalin looked closer at the fading words, translating in her head. 

"Equal. It says equal." She moved along the wall, Rion trailing her, holding up the light. There were two figures carved, a crown upon one of their heads. A third figure stood a few inches away. Watching. A single word was stated at the top, with a moon symbol above. 

"Evalin?" 

"Siblings," she said. "It says, siblings."

Rion took a deep, shuddering breath behind her. 

"There are three of them," Evalin observed. "Two are fighting. And, the moon... does your father have any siblings?" 

"One. She's dead. This isn't him," Rion said.

Evalin paused. "Do _you_ have any siblings?" she asked. 

"One. A sister." 

"Are you sure? You said your mother is much younger than your father-"

"If I had a bastard sibling I think my father would know about it by now," Rion snapped. Evalin went quiet. For once, she didn't think of Rion as an arrogant fool. She sympathized, thinking of how she would react if she found out her father had sired someone with another woman other than her mother. She supposed if the woman he thought was his mate hadn't died, she would have another brother or sister. But she did die, and she only had Sam. But she didn't know Rion's father like she knew her own. For all, she knew the carvings weren't about Rion at all. Her eyes drifted to the crown on one of the heads of the figures. 

"I'm sorry," Rion said into the silence. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Evalin said. "I know," she whispered. "Let's split up." She drew up a blew flame in one hand. "Don't venture off. Just keep looking at the symbols. I can translate later. I'm going to see if there's anything deeper in." 

"Be careful," he said. 

She gave him a withering glare. He smiled. With a roll of her eyes, she walked away. 

The caves were chilled, and damp. Evalin assumed it was because of the water she was sure running within the rock. Springwater. In some parts, she had to be careful of where she stepped to make sure she didn't slip. Not that she could see the ground all that well. Every once and a while she sent her flames skittering along the floor. 

She walked past all the symbols, noting that the cave got deeper the more she walked. It had a bit of a slope, but there were times where she had to jump down from ledges. The carvings didn't stop. She didn't stop to look at them, wanting to see just when they would end. But every once and a while she would catch a shape. A young boy, in what looked like a prison cell. A great beast with horns in its head. The images were a little frightening, but Evalin couldn't find herself to be surprised. Not after the stories, she grew up being told. True ones.

She remembered begging Dorian to tell her one more of his tales before she went to bed. He would glance at Aelin for permission. When she nodded, he would launch into the story, being way too overdramatic. But Evalin lived for it. So did he. She found herself smiling at the memory. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the temperature dropped and goosebumps spread on her arms. She rubbed her bicep with her free hand, squinting into the darkness. Her flames only shone so far away. She sent them rippling across the floor, lighting up the area. She was in a cavern. A wide, open area. A dead-end. When she looked up, she couldn't see a ceiling. The place was gigantic. Ten wyverns could fit inside. Fly around too, possibly. 

Evalin stepped forward, twirling around, looking for something. Anything. It didn't make sense. Why was this huge opening there? She considered the possibility of minors going through, looking for ore. 

She began walking in a specific direction, hoping to meet the wall and look for more carvings. But her boot hit something soft. Evalin let out a small gasp, looking down. Something dark lay on the floor. She shined her flames closer. Her brows furrowed. ....Scales? 

At first, in the dark, and low saturation, she thought the scales were sculpted from stone. But when she touched a hand to them, they felt fleshy. Ice cold, and fleshy. She remembered the way the thing felt soft against her boot. 

Her brain was working slow. So slow. but it caught up. Her eyes widened and her breathing slowed. A low, powerful growl shook the cavern. 

"Oh _shit_ ," she whispered. She took a step back, sending her flames up, up, up...

Laying there, curled in a ball, the size of a small manor, was a... a...

A single eyelid, gigantic, opened. A huge fucking cat's eye. Jade-colored, and split with a pupil down the middle. Evalin stood there, eyes wide and frozen. 

Rion let out a long sigh. His head hurt when he looked at the foreign language, compared it to all the other languages he was forced to learn growing up and drew a blank. It was too unique. Not similar to anything else in any way. So he focused on the images. It didn't help, because without knowing what the words were saying, the symbols could be interpreted in any way. They could go in any direction. 

Evalin had been gone for quite some time. Rion couldn't say exactly how much time, since he couldn't see the sky. He was about to venture deeper into the cave and look for her, when-

"Orion!" Evalin screamed from deep inside. 

He started forward. "Eva?" he called. His walking got faster. Eventually, he was running. "Evalin!" 

"Run!" she screamed. He couldn't decipher how far away she was. Her voice was an echo against the walls. 

"What?" he called. 

"Run!" Her voice was shrill. 

He stopped. Pounding footsteps sounded. And then-

He couldn't cover his ears fast enough. 

An ear-splitting roar echoed. Loud enough to crack the world in half. Followed by it was what he thought was Evalin screaming. More pounding footsteps. Crashing. Like... Rion's eyes widened. Like the rock was caving in. And then Evalin rounded the corner, her eyes wide in panic, her mouth open while she panted. 

"Run!" she yelled at him. "What are you doing you, stupid idiot, we have to-" 

Another piercing roar. Evalin yelled out and covered her ears. 

"What did _you do_?" Rion asked incredulously. 

"What did _I_ do? There's a fucking-" Evalin glanced over her shoulder before grabbing Rion's hand and sprinting off. 

"Evalin what is-" 

" _I don't know_ ," she gasped. 

Rion yanked on her arm, stopping her. She looked up at him with wide eyes. They had to _run_. 

"What are you-" 

"Brace yourself," he said. And before she could do anything, he swooped her up, grabbing her legs, and supporting them with one arm. All she could do was cling to him when-

Night wind kissed her skin. Her head spun. Her hair fluttered. It felt- it felt good. Good. And then it was over. Sunlight greeted her. So sudden she had to squint against it. Rion put her down and she shoved at him. 

"Don't ever do that again without warning me!" 

"I did warn you," he said flatly. "What was chasing us?" 

"It was-" She didn't get to finish her sentence. She realized that he had winnowed them _right_ outside the cave entrance, and right before their very eyes, it exploded into a million places. 

"Get down!" Rion barked at her. Before she could yell right back at him for telling her what to do, she realized that chunks of rock were flying at them. Rion flew out a hand just in time. They crashed against an invisible shield and fell to the ground like nothing. Rion glared at her when he saw she was still standing. She glared back. 

"If you were going to do _that_ why did I have to-"

Another roar. Worse than the last two. Evalin cried out and her hands flew to her ears. If she didn't know any better, she would say they were bleeding. Rion's eyes widened at the beast before them. 

"Evalin," he said slowly. "What _is_ that?" 

Evalin stared down the giant thing. Scales making up its flesh. A royal blue tone. Jade-green eyes. Massive wings flaring out behind it, a deeper blue covering the fleshy patches of them. "It's a dragon," Evalin said, right before it opened its monumental jaws and let out another roar. "I think I woke her up from her thousand-year-long nap. And she's royally pissed off." 

Rion cursed. 

It raised one talon-filled limb and swung. Rion ducked, but Evalin wasn't fast enough. It caught her, and she flew. Her back hit a tree-trunk, and she gasped for air. The wind was knocked out of her and she was having a hard time breathing. Black spots filled her vision. Rion glanced at her with wide eyes, before unsheathing a blade and glaring up at the dragon. It swung its tail, and Rion let his wings out, flaring them before he carried himself above the tail. 

Evalin was still gasping and holding her chest by the tree, desperately trying to get her body to cooperate. Rion threw his blade as hard as he could, aiming for an eye. The thing knocked his blade aside with its tail. Rion muttered a few curses before unsheathing a couple more blades. 

Evalin held herself against the tree, her knees shaking. She closed her eyes and reached into her endless well of magic. 

"Just because it seems bottomless, doesn't mean you can't burn yourself out, Lin," her father had said when she was just learning how to use her magic. 

"Sam is different. He doesn't understand your magic the way I do. The way your mother does. You might feel overwhelmed sometimes. But _you_ control it. It does not control you. Got it?" he had said. Evalin had given him a toothless grin and a sure nod. He had smiled back at her, kissing her temple. 

She pulled, and pulled, and pulled. Watching Rion flap his wings and get a few scratches on the dragon, she gathered her magic. It seemed like he was trying to stab _anywhere_ near the face or head. But each time he flew closer, its giant maws would open and he would have to get away from those teeth that were as big as his torso. He groaned in frustration, dropping to the floor. 

Evalin watched as it went down, its mouth level with him. She watched as it opened its gaping jaws. She watched its throat shine with an orange-color from beneath. Her eyes widened. 

"Rion!" she screamed. And then she was sprinting. Faster than any mortal. She ran faster than she ever had. Everything happened so fast. She shoved Rion with all her strength. He fell back a few feet, staring at her with wide eyes. He only had less than a second to see her before she was engulfed in flames. Flames from the dragon's mouth. 

"No!" he screamed. "Evalin!" She was gone. There were just... flames and more flames. "No," he breathed. "No." He would have been fine... he could have winnowed. He would have been _fine_. "No..." A feeling of dread filled him. 

The flames subsided, and his eyebrows raised. Evalin was... fine. No. She was a goddess reincarnate. She stood there, pure rage filling her eyes. In both hands, were balls of blue flames. Her hair seemed to glow silver. All around her were flames. Blue flames. The flames obeyed her. She was their queen. It was like a huge weight was lifting off his chest. She was _okay_.

"Alright," she said, her voice almost unrecognizable. "Now _I'm_ pissed." 

She ripped her cloak off and threw it to the side, unsheathing a sword from her back that Rion hadn't even seen from under her cloak. Immediately the blade was engulfed in blue flames, and the image of her standing there, looking fiery in small, with her flaming sword in one hand, reminded Rion of one of those pictures from the books his mother would read to him as a boy. He watched her, frozen in place, his brows raised. 

Even the dragon seemed to be in the same state, looking down at her with those gigantic slitted eyes, shifting on uneven feet, a little wobbly after a thousand- possibly more- years of sleep. Evalin let out a battle cry and charged forward. She whirled forward, under its torso, ready to plunge her flaming sword into its stomach, when-

She stopped. She just... paused. The dragon let out a cry and scrambled away from her. She looked up. It wasn't even trying to attack her. Rion shook himself out of his daze and picked up one of his blades. He charged, his wings dissipating into smoke behind him. 

"No!" Evalin cried. He froze and looked over at her incredulously. 

"Don't hurt her!" she commanded. Rion reluctantly lowered his blade. 

She looked back up at the beast. It blew hot air out of its nostrils. A few trees had fallen in its wake. Evalin took a step closer and it let out a beastly sound, taking a step back. Rion stood there, dumbfounded, watching as Evalin put her extinguished sword down on the ground, and held up her hands. Slowly, so slowly, she took a step forward. The dragon didn't react that time. They stared each other down, Evalin looking tiny in front of the beast. Rion was having a hard time comprehending how something so mighty could be contained in such a small body. 

"It's okay," Evalin breathed. "Your brothers and sisters... they're all gone. You're all alone." 

As if in response, more hot air huffed out of its nostrils. Rion cocked his head to the side. 

"Such an awful thing to wake up to, right?" she whispered. 

The dragon bowed its head low, and Evalin pressed a hand between its eyes, soft against its scaly cold flesh. She smiled. "You look like a Nyrsa. Hm?" It huffed in response. 

Evalin looked over at Rion, standing there, probably looking at her as if she had three heads. "You..." He cleared his throat. "You're..."

"Amazing?" Evalin asked, a small smile on her face. 

"Yes," Rion said immediately. 

Her smile faded, and a small blush crept onto her cheeks. 

"I'm upgrading you," she said. At Rion's confused look, she added, "your wings. They don't look like bat wings." She looked up at Nyrsa's fleshy, talon-tipped wings. "They look like dragon wings. How does dragon boy sound?" 

"I think..." Rion began. "That if I went to the Illyrian camps and told all the males that a female compared my wings to those of a dragon... I would have all the respect in the world." He looked over. Evalin had a confused look on her face. Rion laughed, making a mental note to tell her about the famous theory of a male's wingspan later. 

_"Once upon a time..." the Suriel had said, a small smirk playing at its lips as Amyria watched. "There was a male who couldn't escape the darkness... and there was a female who was the darkness."_

Amyria shot up in bed, gasping, her hand clutching her hourglass charm around her neck. The Suriel. She had caught the Suriel expecting her purpose to be told to her. Instead, she was told a prophecy. 

A few minutes later, she was knocking on Candor's door, her eyes feeling heavy and her cloak clutched around her shoulders. A moment later he opened the door, towering over her. It looked like he hadn't been sleeping. He looked down at her, his brows furrowed. Amyria looked up at him beneath her lashes. 

"I'll tell you," she breathed. "But you mustn't tell anyone else. For I fear... I fear when Mara finds out, she will change her mind about saving Orion." 

Candor stood there, silent for a moment. A look of puzzlement clouded his features, before he nodded, and stepped aside for her. A moment later, she was sitting in front of his lit fireplace, and he was kneeling in front of her. 

They looked at each other in silence. Until-

"Tell me what the Suriel said," he whispered into the dark. 

"Let me go," it hissed in an ugly voice that reminded Amyria vaguely of a snake.

"Mother was wrong," Amyria said out loud. "This was _too_ easy." She smiled, crossing her arms over her shoulders. 

"You're a fool, girl," the ugly thing spat. "A damn fool." 

"I'll let you go when you tell me what I want to know," Amyria said, her smile widening as if she just found gold. 

The Suriel sneered at her. "What do you want me to tell you that you don't already know?" it snarled, before sniffing the air. It made a sound of disgust. "About that lovestruck male, you play with?" 

Amyria froze, and the smile fell from her face. It was Suriel's turn to smile. She unsheathed a dagger and started stalking for the thing. It let out a squeal, trying desperately to get out of its binds and away from the demon-like female. 

"Tell me something useful or I swear I will cut your eyes out and feed them to the animals! You can listen while they delight in your sight," Amyria snapped, pressing the blade to what looked like its throat. 

"Fine!" it snapped. "Get that blasted thing away from me." Amyria obliged. 

It looked her up and down, before sniffing. It paused. Sniffed again. Cocked its head to the side. "You grew up with _her_ ," it whispered. 

Amyria frowned. "Who?" 

"She who they will call the goddess of the dark," it replied easily. "The darkness bends to her will. The moonlight cries for a taste of her skin. Only the stars do not respect her very marrow. No. They look to the other. The prince of night." 

Amyria stared at the Suriel for a moment. "Orion?" she asked hesitantly. It nodded frantically. 

"Yes, yes. The stars listen to him." 

"What does this have to do with me, exactly?" 

"Everything, girl," the Suriel said immediately. "Your country is in danger." 

"How? Why?" 

"There will be a war. Between two siblings. For power. So much power in both. It is unheard of, for that much of such an essence to writhe inside those who do not rule. Those who do not have the will the Mother has granted." The Suriel nodded. "Yes, yes. It will be catastrophe. When the high lord no longer rules... when his high lady withers away with him-" The Suriel paused, eyes wide. "She will not allow her kin to sit on the throne. She will not allow it. No, no, no. She wants the power. The darkness compels her." 

" _Speak properly_ ," Amyria snapped, her gut twisting. "Who is _she_?" 

The Suriel snapped its head up. "You will regret it. You will regret it." 

"Regret what?" 

"There is an alternative. The male. The... the-the fox. Yes, him. He's a killer. Born of the deepest seas. The waves call to him. _He_ is the alternative. For the girl. For the princess." 

Amyria considered the other being. "You mean Mara," she whispered. 

"Yes. She is the bane of our existence. She will go mad with the need for power. There will be no courts. There will be no seven high lords. There will only be _her_. Unless the prince is strong enough to rid her of this world. Unless he must do what has to be done. Or... or, or, or. There's the _fox_ ," The Suriel was itching to escape now. 

"What fox?" 

"The male. Born of the deepest seas. The killer. He's dangerous. But not to her. Not to the princess-" 

" _Who?_ " Amyria pressed. She was getting tired of the cryptic talk, though she knew Suriels talked in riddles, from what she gathered. 

"He is not of this world. He is... far, away. Oh, yes. He bathes in the blood of his enemies. He bathes in the blood of innocents. Not his choice. Not his choice-" 

"Hold on-" But the Suriel had gone quiet. Amyria didn't realize her hands were shaking. She was just processing what Suriel was saying. Bane of our existence. The goddess of the darkness. A war. Between siblings. Orion, and Mara? 

"The siblings, they will rip each other apart. Nothing can stop it. Nothing can stop it." The Suriel paused again, its whole body going rigid. "No... no alternative." 

Amyria paled. Wasn't it just talking about an alternative? She wasn't sure if she was believing anything she was hearing anyway-

"Once upon a time..." The Suriel looked up at Amyria. "There was a male who couldn't escape the darkness, and there was a female who was the darkness." 

Another pause. Amyria stared in horror. 

"As clever as a fox he is... as cunning as a snake she is," the Suriel continued, its gaze wandering. "She is dangerous. Do not... do not underestimate her." 

Candor blinked at her. "What does any of that mean?" 

"Don't," Amyria warned. "You know exactly what it means. Mara's dangerous. Which is why we _need_ to get Orion back. He needs to fix this. Whatever it is." 

"Is Rion the male?" he asked. 

"I don't think so," Amyria said. "I don't know who that is. But all that matters is Orion."

"If he's what we need, why is Mara so desperate to get him back?" 

"She doesn't know any of this. Perhaps she's oblivious. But we can't trust her," Amyria said. 

Candor nodded. "Yeah. You're right." 

Amyria let out a long sigh, and slumped back in the chair, looking into the fire. It was silent for a moment or two. 

"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked. Candor looked startled. "Sorry, I..."

"Yes," he said. "You can." 

Amyria smiled up at him, her light brown skin looking gold in the fire-light. She stood, and walked into another room. His _bedroom_. He swallowed hard before trailing after her. He watched as she slid into his bed with ease as if it was something she did every day. 

"Do you want me to-"

"Don't be stupid, get in here," she said, knowing what he was about to ask. 

He smiled before sliding under the covers, keeping a safe distance away from her. Only the sounds of the city outside were heard now. 

"We're going to figure this out, Mira," Candor said into the dark. He thought she was asleep for a moment because she didn't respond right away. 

"Goodnight, Candor," she said. 


End file.
